The Princess's Prophecy
by Emmie0928
Summary: What if your prince is really the villain?
1. Chapter 1

**I should not be starting this before _After the Fairytale_ is finished, but I got the idea into my head and I couldn't help myself. _After the Fairytale_ is nearing its end though, so I might not update this until I finish with that (at least that's what I'm telling myself). Think of this as a little sneak peek. With this story, I'm continuing my trend of completely turning a fairy tale on its head. This story is completely separate from_ After the Fairytale_ though, so if you haven't read that, it will not at all affect your understanding of this one. Also, this story is going to be a lot darker than _After the Fairytale_, so beware of that.**

* * *

><p>"Your Majesty," a raspy voice echoed throughout the cave. "What can I do for you?"<p>

King Triton squinted into the darkness, unable to make out anything but a fuzzy shape in the distance. "Come out where I can see you, Seer."

From deep within the cavern, a mermaid emerged. She was clearly old and her long gray hair flowed behind her in the water. But her skin was smooth and wrinkle-free, giving her the appearance of being both elderly and youthful at the same time. If King Triton didn't know that she was in fact centuries old, he would have a hard time figuring out her age at all.

"Why have you summoned me?" she asked, staring past him with murky white eyes.

He cleared his throat and clutched his trident tighter. There was something disconcerting about her. How did someone who was blind manage to see so much? "My wife is with child," he said.

"I know," the Seer replied. "I foresaw it many moons ago."

"I wish to know," he continued, "if I will finally be blessed with a son?"

The queen had already bore him six daughters and although he loved them all dearly, he wished desperately to finally have a son.

"It is not to be," the Seer replied. "At the seventh hour of the seventh night of the seventh month, the queen shall bear another daughter."

The king tried not to look disappointed. "I see," he murmured, turning to leave. "Very well then."

"Wait," the Seer hissed.

He turned back around and nearly gasped. The Seer's white eyes had started to swirl violenty, like two small hurricanes. She reached out and gripped his arm tightly. "I foresee great danger," she whispered, her voice deeper and gruffer than before. "The kingdom of Atlantica will be in grave peril in eighteen years' time, threatened by humans led here by her. The seventh princess will unknowingly bring about the demise of the kingdom and of our race by falling in love with a _human_."

The Seer shuddered, her entire body shaking. She closed her eyes, still clutching the king's arm. When she finally opened them, they had returned to their normal state.

King Triton stared at her, his fear preventing him from saying anything. Finally, after what felt like hours, he managed to speak. "What am I to do?"

"You have to two options," the Seer said. "First, you can end the child's life before it has begun."

He shook his head. "I cannot," he said hoarsely. "Though it is tempting, she is my daughter and I must spare her."

"The other option is this," she said. "You must keep her here, under the sea, forever. Never let her see the light of day. If she ever comes into contact with humans, we are all doomed."

"Will that work?" he asked. "If you have prophesized our demise, will it not have to come true?"

She shook her head. "We have the power to change our fate," she murmured. "Nothing is ever set in stone."

* * *

><p>The kingdom of Atlantica was abuzz with excitement. Today was the day of the presentation of the new princess, Ariel. A giant party was to be thrown in her honor at the palace and the kingdom's most elite mer-people were invited to dine with the royal family and shower the new baby with spectacular gifts. Everyone else would gather outside the castle's gates and wait for the king and queen to emerge with Ariel, allowing the kingdom to catch their first glimpse of princess.<p>

The king sat at the end of the table. His gaze swept over his guests, too many to count, finally landing on his wife. She sat to his left, looking as beautiful as she had the day her married her. If one did not know, he thought, one would have no idea that she had given birth merely two days prior.

"How is Ariel?" he asked her, taking a bite of his kelp salad.

"She is asleep in the nursery," the queen said. "The nanny will bring her and the other girls down as soon as we are finished with our meal."

He nodded absentmindedly, turning to the merman who sat on his other side. "Misenus," he said, "I heard that your wife recently bore you your first child."

"'Tis true," Misenus said. "A healthy young boy named Marsious."

Triton nodded thoughtfully. "I have a proposal for you, Misenus."

"And what is that, Your Majesty?"

"I wish for my youngest daughter and your son to be betrothed."

Misenus' eyes widened. "You do?"

"Yes," the king said. "Your family is a fine, reputable one. It will be a good marriage, I think."

"Is this wise?" the queen asked. "We haven't arranged any of our other daughter's marriages. And besides, you've always said that you believe one should marry for love."

"I am doing what I think is best, Athena!" King Triton said sharply.

His wife fell silent.

The king could not tell her what was truly on his mind. He did not want her to know about the prophecy. It would worry her too much. Besides, it was never going to come true. He would see to that. The Seer had said that Ariel would fall in love with a human, but he would never allow it. This betrothal was one of the ways he was keeping her safe, keeping her here. If she married Misenus' son, she would have all the more reason not to stray upwards toward land. Besides, he saw no reason why she would not fall in love with Marsious. He would make sure they were pushed together as often as possible throughout their childhood. They would grow to care about her and then love would bloom. Yes, he was sure of it. He settled back in his seat, a satisfied grin settling across his face. His kingdom would be safe.

* * *

><p>"Your Majesty!" a frantic voice hissed in his ear. "Your Majesty, wake up!"<p>

King Triton's eyes popped open. The court composer, a crab named Sebastian, was perched on his chest, peering down at him.

"Sebastian!" the king exclaimed, sitting up. "What in the world are you doing?"

"I was walking by your wife's room on the way to my own," he said, "when I heard her coughing. A terrible, hacking cough. I went in to see if she was all right, but she wasn't, Your Majesty. She was coughing up blood. I awoke the court doctor. He is with her now, but you must come quickly."

The king scrambled out of bed. "Is she going to be all right?" he asked, as he swam toward the door, Sebastian scuttling along behind him.

The crab's face was grave. "The doctor says it does not look good for her, Your Majesty."

* * *

><p>Ariel was gathered with her sisters at her mother's bedside, staring down at the lifeless body in front of them.<p>

"Daddy," the four-year-old murmured. "When will Mommy wake up?"

The king placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "She is not ever going to wake up, dearest one. She has gone to be with the angels."

"What's an angel?" Ariel asked, peering up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Hush, Ariel," her oldest sister, Attina, scolded. "Now's not the time for questions."

Ariel placed her hands on her hips and glared at her sister. "Don't be bossy, Attina. Just because Mommy is never waking up doesn't mean you get to order me around instead!"

The king gazed fondly down at his youngest daughter. She was a feisty little thing. He could already tell she was going to cause more trouble than the rest of her sisters combined, a fact which worried him immensely. Out of all seven of his daughters, she was the one he most had to keep under control. The fate of the kingdom depended on it.

He sighed, reaching down to clasp his wife's hand. "My dearest Athena," he murmured. "What am I to do without you?"

* * *

><p>"Ariel, wait up!"<p>

Eight-year-old Ariel kept swimming, silently urging her sea-green tail to move a bit faster.

"Ariel!" the voice said again. "Your dad said that you had to let me come with you!"

She stopped swimming and spun around. "Go away, Marsious!" she snapped, her hands on her hips. "Stop being so annoying all the time!"

The sandy-haired boy ignored her, swimming a bit closer. He smiled smugly at her, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.

"Go away!" she repeated.

"You can't make me," he said, he said, his orange tail flipping back and forth through the water.

She sighed in exasperation, knowing he was right. Marsious was bigger and stronger than her and, as hard as she had tried, she had never been able to beat him in a fight.

"Fine," she muttered. "You can come."

He grinned triumphantly, his aqua-colored eyes twinkling with amusement. "I knew you'd give in, Ari."

"Don't call me that!" she told him for what felt like the millionth time. "You know I hate when you call me that."

"I know," he replied, smirking at her. "That's why I do it."

She rolled her eyes and began to swim away. Marsious may have been stronger than her, but she was faster. Nevertheless, he managed to catch up with her as they reached the end of the coral reef on the outskirts of the kingdom. She was pleased to hear, however, that he was panting slightly.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm. "You're going out into open water?"

This time it was her turn to smirk. "Scared?" she taunted.

"No!" he exclaimed, staring out at the great expanse of water with wide eyes. "I've just never been out in open water before."

"Really?" she asked. "You mean you've never left the reef?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?" she asked. "There's so much to see out there!"

"My parents said that it isn't safe," he said.

"My father says the same thing," Ariel replied. "But he doesn't think anything is safe. I just ignore him. Can you imagine if I actually stayed cooped up inside a castle all day with my sisters like he seems to want me to? I think I'd lose my mind."

Marsious glanced over his shoulder, his gaze settling on the kingdom in the distance. "It's not such a bad place, Ariel."

She turned around, floating lazily as she stared at the place she'd called home her whole life. Her family's castle—shiny and magnificent—rose high above all else. It was made of gold and stood out easily in comparison to everyone else's coral homes.

"It's not all there is," she murmured. "I want to experience everything, Marsious."

As Marsious contemplated this, she grinned mischievously. "Come on!" she said. "I'll race you to the top!"

"The top?" he asked. "Are you joking?"

She shook her head. "Nope! There's someone up there I want you to meet!"

"You mean you've been up there before?" he asked, shocked.

She merely laughed in response, already swimming upwards toward the surface.

"Ariel!" he whined, swimming after her. "Wait for me!"

* * *

><p>When they had almost reached the surface, he extended his arm and grabbed on to a section of her long red hair. He tugged as hard as he could and she screeched in pain, coming to a stop and glaring at him. He passed her easily and broke the surface before she did, pumping his fist victoriously as she popped up beside him, venom in her eyes.<p>

"You cheated, Marsious!" she snarled.

"Yup!" he agreed, pleased with himself.

She muttered something under her breath, but he wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy taking in everything around him. There was water going on for miles in every direction, but off in the distance, he could see land. He had never seen land before. He tilted his head up, feeling the sun's heat beating down on his face, and smiled contentedly.

"I knew you'd like it up here," Ariel said. Her anger seemed to have dissipated, perhaps dried up by the sun.

Above them, a flying creature was circling.

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

"A seagull," she said. "It's a type of bird."

He stared at her in awe, almost asking her how she knew so much, but then thinking better of it. He didn't want her to know that he thought she was smart.

The seagull spotted them and dove down, landing on a bit of jagged rock that peaked out of the ocean. Ariel quickly swam over to him and Marsious followed.

"Hello, Scuttle!" she said brightly, resting her forearms on the rock and grinning up at the bird.

"Hello, Ariel," he greeted her, fixing his gaze on Marsious. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Marsious," she said. "He's _not_ my friend. My father just insists on my spending time with him. I have yet to figure out why. He's obnoxious."

Scuttle eyed Marsious suspiciously. "Can he be trusted?" he asked.

Marsious rolled his eyes. "Trusted with what exactly?" he asked.

"I have something to give Ariel," the bird replied. "Something no one else can find out that she has, especially her father."

"You have another gift for me?" Ariel squealed with delight. "Oh, Scuttle, you're the best!"

Marsious watched with interest as the seagull pushed aside s few small rocks and picked up a small object. It didn't look like much to Marsious. "What is it?" he asked. "It doesn't look so special."

"This, my narrow-minded friend, is a doohickey."

"What does it do?" Ariel asked, looking a lot more enthusiastic than Marsious felt.

"Humans use it to make markings on paper," Scuttle replied. "They just hold it in their hands and press down. Apparently it can be used as a form of communication."

"Wow," Ariel murmured, her eyes wide with fascination. "That's so interesting."

Marsious rolled his eyes. "I think of a million things that are more interesting than that, Ari."

She slapped his arm. It stung and he flinched slightly, immediately hoping that she didn't notice. "Shut up!" she snapped.

"Children!" Scuttle exclaimed. "Control yourselves, please."

Ariel reached out and took the doohickey from the bird. "Thank you, Scuttle."

"It's my pleasure, Ariel," he said, flapping his wings and rising into the air. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah!" she agreed. "Hopefully next time without _him_." She elbowed Marsious hard in the ribs and he retaliated by jabbing her hard in the side with his fingers.

"I hate you!" she hissed.

"The feeling's mutual!" he replied angrily, diving under the water and swimming as fast as he could to get away from her.

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><p><strong>So there it is, chapter one of Ariel's story! What did you think? Should I continue?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

It was the middle of the night and twelve-year-old Marsious couldn't sleep. He could hear whispers coming from the living room. His father and someone else whose voice he could not place. He got out of bed and swam over to the doorway of his bedroom, peering around the corner. His father and King Triton were sitting in large coral chairs, deep in conversation.

"When are you planning on telling them?" Marsious' father asked. "They deserve to know."

"They are not yet old enough," the king said dismissively.

"With all due respect, Your Magesty," his father replied, "I think that the sooner we tell them the better. Ariel and my son will only resent us all the more the longer we keep something as huge as their betrothal from them. It's been arranged since they were born! Isn't twelve years long enough to keep silent on such an important matter?"

Marsious almost let out an audible gasp, but managed to cover his mouth with his hand just in time to prevent it. He and Ariel were betrothed? He was going to have to marry _her_? Gross!

King Triton stroked his long, white beard. "My dear Misenus," he said, his voice grave, "I understand what you are saying, I truly do. But I fear that as soon as I tell Ariel the truth, she will start asking questions. She will want to know why I arranged her marriage and not any of her sisters'. And what am I to tell her? That she must marry a merman so that she does not seek out the love of a human? That there is a prophecy that her love for this human will bring about the destruction of our kingdom? I cannot tell her these things."

"So what are you going to do?" Misenus asked sarcastically. "Spring it on her the day of the wedding? Happy Eighteenth birthday! By the way, you're getting married!"

"I will tell her soon enough!" the king snapped. "I just need to think of the best way to tell her first, is all."

Marsious felt light-headed. He backed up slowly, the two men's voices growing fainter and fainter. Falling back onto his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. He and Ariel were betrothed. They were betrothed to keep her from falling in love with a human. The king was worried about this because there had been a prophecy that this would destroy the kingdom.

"Damn," he whispered softly. That was certainly a lot to take in.

* * *

><p>Ariel picked up the strange object Scuttle had given her earlier that morning. He said that humans used it to clean their teeth. She ran her fingers over the bristles, wondering what good they could possibly do. She set the object down, next to the broken clock and the chipped tea cup, and gazed upwards. She'd discovered this place a couple years ago. It was a large cave with hollowed out walls that made perfect shelves. Every human treasure she obtained, whether it was from exploring a sunken ship or receiving a gift from Scuttle, she put in here. There were still many empty shelves, but her stash grew more and more every day.<p>

The light that poured through the top hole in the cave was suddenly dimmed. She glanced up and gasped in shock when she saw that someone was peering down at her from above.

"Hey, Ariel!" a voice called. "I have something to tell you."

She breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Marsious. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to see him, but at least it wasn't her father or someone who would tell her father about this place.

He ducked into the hole and began to swim downwards, coming to a stop when he reached the bottom where she was floating.

"How did you find me here?" she asked. She had never told anyone about this place. She couldn't risk it.

He ignored her question. "I overheard my dad and your dad talking last night," he said. "And let's just say that it was quite enlightening."

"What were they talking about?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

He looked around the cave casually, taking in his surroundings and not answering her question. "What is this place anyway?" he asked.

"It's just a place where I hide my treasures," she muttered in reply.

He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. "Your treasures?" he repeated. "This junk isn't treasure, Ari."

"Don't call me that," she growled through gritted teeth. "And it is to me!"

"Why are you so obsessed with humans anyway?" he asked. "It's so strange."

"Go away, Marsious!" she snapped.

"Okay," he said slowly, beginning to swim upwards. "But I thought you wanted to know what our fathers were talking about last night. It did after all concern you, after all. And me."

"What were they talking about?" she asked. "Tell me!"

He stopped swimming. "We're betrothed," he said, amusement in his eyes. "They've been planning it since we were born."

Her eyes widened. "Are you messing around with me, Marsious? Because if you're lying about this, I swear I'll—"

He chuckled. "Trust me, Ariel. It's the truth."

"Why do you seem to think this is funny?" she asked. "This is horrible!"

"I'll admit I wasn't thrilled when I found out," he said, "but now that I'm here and I'm seeing the look on your face, I'm realizing that it's not entirely bad."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're okay with marrying simply because it annoys me?"

He laughed again and she had to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from smacking the smug look off his face.

"Being married to you won't be all bad," he said. "Yes, you're annoying, but you're also pretty damn beautiful."

Ariel felt her face heat up. This was the first time a boy had called her beautiful. It was a monumental moment. Too bad it was ruined by the fact that it had come from stupid Marsious.

"I'm not going to marry you!" she snapped. "I don't care what my father says!"

"He sounded pretty serious about it, Ariel."

"But why?" she exclaimed. "None of my sisters are being forced to marry against their will."

"I don't know," he muttered, dropping his gaze.

She squinted at him suspiciously, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Did he really not know?

"But you're going to have to marry me whether you want to or not," he continued. "There's no way you're going to get out of this one, Ari."

She groaned in frustration and pushed past him, swimming upwards until she was out of the cavern and then continuing on until she broke the surface. She could see the shoreline off in the distance. It was far away, but she desperately wanted to see it up close. She'd spent years gazing at it, yearning for it, but she'd never actually made the journey to see it for herself. She ducked back under the water and began to swim, faster than she ever had before. If she was going to make it to the shore and back home before dark, she was going to have to move very quickly.

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><p>A boy stood at the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping at his bare feet. "Eric!" he called to another boy in the distance. "Nanny says to come inside immediately. It's time for tea!"<p>

Eric scowled and began to make his way towards shore. Moments later he emerged from the ocean, shaking the water from his shaggy black hair. "I can't wait until we're old enough to be rid of that old hag," he muttered. "I hate being told what to do. I'm fifteen years old, for God's sake."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Stop whining so much."

"When I said I didn't like people telling me what to do, I especially meant my little brother," Eric said, but his tone had changed to a playful one and he grinned as he gave the boy a slight shove.

The two of them took off running down the beach, toward the castle that they called home.

"Andy, wait!" Eric called a few minutes later, skidding to a stop and peering curiously out at the ocean. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Andy asked, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed out over the water.

"That girl out there," Eric said. "She's over by those rocks." He pointed. "See?"

"Oh, yeah," Andy said. "I see her now." The girl had long red hair and looked to be about his age, which was twelve. "So what?"

"She has a tail," Eric murmured, still staring at her.

Andy let out a bark of laughter. "A tail? Eric, are you mad? You sound like those drunken sailors down by the docks who are always going on about mermaids."

"I saw a tail, I swear," Eric said. "I'm not mad. It was there."

Andy rolled his eyes and began to walk away. "Whatever you say," he called over his shoulder. "I'll just tell Nanny you're late because you've gone mental from inhaling too much saltwater into your lungs and have started hallucinating."

Eric watched as his brother disappeared from sight and then redirected his gaze back toward the girl. She wasn't looking at him and so he crept a bit closer, determined to catch a glimpse of her tail again. He had seen it. There was no doubt in his mind.

A moment later, the girl dove underwater, her tail flipping up in the air and then disappearing into the ocean with her.

Eric stood rooted to the spot, stunned. All those old sailor legends were true after all. Mermaids were real. A smile spread across his face. Imagine if was able to prove their existence. He was already going to be king someday, but such a feat would surely solidify him as one of the most legendary monarchs the kingdom of Reissa had ever seen. Still grinning smugly to himself, he began to trudge back toward the castle. It had been a magnificent place to grow up, built right into the cliffs that bordered the sea. And someday—when his father was finally out of the way—it would all belong to him. The castle. The kingdom. Everything.

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><p>Later that evening after dinner, Eric wandered into the library. He scanned the hundreds of titles carefully, grabbing any that sounded as if they would have information on mermaids. Sitting down in an old armchair by the fire, he opened the biggest one first and blew the dust from its yellowed pages. It was an old collection of sailor's legends. He skimmed over the first few, finding nothing of interest. But the fourth story, titled simply "The Sea Witch" caught his eye. The witch herself was not a mermaid, but the legend said that she had once been. But she had betrayed the kingdom and the king himself had exiled her. Having been born with magic that few mer-people possessed, she was able to change her appearance at will and had transformed her tail into octopus tentacles. She lived alone in a cave a few miles from the kingdom. She was immortal and had spent centuries making deals with mermen and mermaids, giving them whatever they wanted in return for whatever she desired. It was said that only the most desperate sought her out because her near-impossible bargains were well-known amongst the kingdom. If one could not meet his or her end of the deal, she would transform him or her into a small, helpless plantlike creature. It was also said that once every four years, she would transform her appearance into a human one and make her way to shore. Then and only then could the rare human who knew of and believed in her existence seek out her help. There was a chart that took up one whole page in the book, chronicling every date that the witch would come to shore over the next few centuries. Eric was disappointed to see that the next date was not for nearly four more years. He shut the book and stared into the fire. It was a good thing he was willing to wait.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>So I know I said I wouldn't update this story until I finished After the Fairytale, but I have no self-control. BUT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN! To the reviewer who asked why this story is rated M instead of T like After the Fairytale, the answer is that this story will be a lot darker. As you can probably already tell, the Eric in this story is nothing like the Eric we all know and love from the Disney movie. <strong>

**As always, don't forget to review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ariel, wake up!"

Ariel groaned, covering her eyes with one arm and swatting at whoever was disturbing her sleep with the other. "Go away!"

"Ariel, it's your 16th birthday!" the voice exclaimed, pushing her arm aside and poking her in the shoulder. "You need to wake up so we can get you ready."

Ariel opened her eyes, squinting up at her sister Andrina. Andrina was the second youngest of King Triton's daughters and therefore the closet in age to Ariel.

"Ariel," her sister said. "Your party starts in five hours! You need to get up!"

"Five hours?" Ariel repeated. "I have plenty of time! Let me get some more sleep, Andrina. Please."

"If you weren't out so late doing heaven knows what, then you wouldn't be so tired," Andrina replied, grabbing the end of her little sister's tail and tugging. "Now get out of bed!"

Ariel sighed, allowing her sister to pull her up. It was true that she had been out late. She had discovered an old ship wreck some miles away from their kingdom and had spent hours exploring it, collecting many treasures to take back to her secret cave.

A face peeked around the corner of Ariel's bedroom. It was Adella, the third oldest of Ariel's sisters. "Ah, Ariel," she said, swimming into the room. "I see Andrina has awoken you. Are you excited?"

Ariel sighed again, staring longingly at her bed. "Excited about what?" she asked.

"Your party, silly!" Adella replied. "And turning 16." She clasped her hands together, gazing up toward the ceiling dreamily. "I remember when I was 16," she murmured. "There was this boy…"

"That's how all your stories start," Ariel grumbled. "There's always a boy."

"She's right," Andina said. "You're boy crazy, Adella."

Adella crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, looking very much like a five year old instead of a 20 year old. "Am not!"

"Yes, you are," Ariel replied.

"Well, you're one to talk," Adella replied. "Always off with that Marsious boy doing God only knows what."

"That's not true!" Ariel retorted. "I can barely stand him!"

"Then why is he accompanying you to your party as your date?" Adella asked. "The two of you are going to dance the first dance together and everything."

"That's Father's wish," Ariel replied. "You know that he wants us to marry someday."

Adella's gaze softened. "He's a nice boy, Ariel. You could do a lot worse."

Ariel knew that was true. She _could_ do a lot worse. But she didn't want to settle. She didn't to be stuck in this kingdom forever with a husband she didn't love. She wanted to explore. She wanted to learn. She wanted to experience new things. She wanted to find out what it was like up there. She wasn't like her sisters. That had always been obvious to her. She wasn't content like they all seemed to be, content to sit by and let life happen around them. No, she wanted to be a part of something. A part of that world, the one up there.

But for now she could do nothing except follow her sisters out of her bedroom and allow them to get her ready for her 16th birthday party.

* * *

><p>"You look pretty."<p>

Ariel glanced up. "Oh," she said. "It's you."

Marsious frowned, crossing her arms across his chest. "Gee, Ari. It's nice to see you too."

"Get out of my room, Marsious!" she snapped.

"I can't," he replied calmly, swimming over to her bed and sitting down beside her. "I'm supposed to be fetching you. Your party is about to start and we're supposed to dance the first dance together. Remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "How could I forget?" she muttered.

He fixed her with a cocky grin, his sandy hair flopping into face. "Face it, Ariel. You can't resist me."

"Yeah, right, I think—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because suddenly Marsious leaned over, pressing his lips against hers. She froze for a moment, totally caught off guard. Then she came to her senses and pulled away, slapping him across the face.

"What the hell are you doing, Marsious?" she hissed. "Have you lost your mind?"

Marsious clutched his cheek for a moment and Ariel felt smug. She hoped her slap had stung.

"We're going to be married in two years, Ariel," Marsious replied. "Don't you think it's time we started kissing?"

"I've told you this a million times!" she snapped, "I'm not marrying you!"

"Face it, Ariel," he said, his voice still frustratingly calm, "you are. Your father will make sure of it."

"I do not care what my father says," she replied. "I will not marry a boy who only wishes to be with me for my looks."

Marsious's eyes narrowed. "When did I say that?"

"When we were 12," she replied. "It was the day you found me in my cave and told me we were betrothed. Don't you remember? You said marrying me wouldn't be so mad because I am, and I quote, "pretty damn beautiful."

"Are you really holding me to something I said when I was 12 years old?" he asked. "I was a dumb kid."

"You're still a dumb kid!"

"Yeah, well, so are you!" he replied. "But Ariel, I can assure you that I have much more reason for wishing to marry me than simply your beauty."

She lifted an eyebrow, unable to control her curiosity. "And what is that?"

"Your attitude," he said simply.

"What does that mean?" she replied, exasperated.

"I mean, you've got spunk," he said. "You're stubborn and not afraid to stand up for yourself. Quite frankly, you're a pain in the ass."

"You want to marry because I'm a pain in the ass," she said flatly.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "All my life I've watched my mother bend to my father's every wish and command, no matter what. I can only assume that before she married him, she had her own personality. But I've never seen any evidence of one. It's sad, really. Their relationship made me sure of one thing; I absolutely do not want a submissive wife. I want a wife who's full of life and opinions and isn't afraid to voice that opinion. I want a wife who'll slap me when I'm being stupid." He paused, his aqua-colored eyes meeting hers. "I want you, Ariel."

Ariel's heart sped up. Never in her life had she ever thought she could be feeling what she was currently feeling for _Marsious_. She had the sudden urge to reach out and run her fingers through his blond hair.

"I…I…" she stammered, for once at a loss for words.

"Shhh," he murmured, leaning in again.

This time, when his lips met hers, she didn't pull away. She simply let him kiss her. She let him stick his tongue in her mouth, which was surprisingly not as gross as she always thought it would be. In fact, it was actually not gross at all. He leaned forward, pushing her back against her bed. Her hands tangled in his hair as his entire body pressed against her.

She remembered a conversation she's had several years ago with her oldest sister Attina. Attina had explained to her that her virginity was a gift, a very precious gift that she was not to give away to anyone until her wedding night. At the time, she hadn't thought that would ever be a problem. But now, as Marsious moved his mouth to her neck and began trailing kisses downwards, it occurred to her for the first time that perhaps that wouldn't be as easy as she had once thought.

_This is crazy_, she thought. Earlier today, she could barely stand being in the same room as Marsious. Now she was pinned beneath him, letting his hand slip under her purple seashells, contemplating what it would be like to give him her precious gift! Though she was sure her father would readily agree that she should wait until her wedding night, she couldn't help but feel she was playing right into his plans. If she continued down this path, there was no doubt she end up married to Marsious, stuck here in Atlantica for the rest of her life. And that had never been in her plans! She was not about to compromise her life's ambitions just because a cute boy who liked her for her personality put his tongue in her mouth. That would be ridiculous!

"Marsious, stop," she said, pushing on his chest.

He rolled off her. "Sorry, got a little carried away" he muttered. "We should get going. I'm surprised no one's come looking for us yet."

"I can't!" she exclaimed, sitting up.

He looked at her strangely. "Can't what?"

"Go to my stupid birthday party," she said, swimming over to her vanity and peering in the mirror. Her sisters had done her hair up into some sort of complicated, braided updo. It was half coming undone already, thanks to her activities with Marsious, and she yanked the rest of it out, running her fingers through her long red hair.

"Why not?" Marsious asked.

"Because I'm done going along with my father's plans for me. You said yourself that you like that I'm not afraid to have my own opinions and do what I want. So surely you understand, Marsious. I can't do this anymore. I can't marry you. I don't belong here. I belong up there."

_This is not good_, Marsious thought. He had been telling the truth when he'd spoken of his admiration for her independent nature. But he knew the prophecy. He knew that Ariel going up to land would only end in disaster for their whole kingdom. He couldn't let her go.

"Ariel, wait," he said, scrambling out of her bed and swimming over to where she was floating. He grabbed her arm. "This is ridiculous. You don't even have legs. How exactly are you planning on living up there?"

"There are ways to get legs!" she replied, yanking her arm away from him.

His eyes widened. "Surely you don't mean…"

"Yes, Marsious. I can ask Ursula."

"The Sea Witch?" he stammered. "Ariel, don't be an idiot!"

Her eyes flashed. "Don't call me an idiot!" she hissed.

She turn and swam out of the room. Marsious quickly followed her. There was no way he was letting her make a deal with Ursula. He'd heard what happened to those who could not keep up their end of their bargains with her. She turned them into little plant-creatures. She had an entire garden of them; hardly anyone could do as Ursula required. Only the most desperate sought her out.

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well, look who's home."<p>

Andy grinned up at his older brother as he stepped through the front door. "Hello, Eric."

"How was your trip?" Eric asked, as the servants disappeared with Andy's bags and left the two of them standing alone in the foyer of the castle.

At 16-years-old, Andy was still attending boarding school in a city on the other side of the kingdom. His summer holiday had started in June, but he had gone to Italy with his parents for a month. Now it was July and he was back. His parents were still abroad, touring the rest of Europe. The kingdom was experiencing an extremely peaceful, prosperous time and the king did not seem concerned about being away for long periods of time. He left Eric in charge, claiming that it would be good practice for his future. Eric certainly didn't seem to mind. Andy had always thought he seemed a bit power-hungry.

"It was nice," Andy replied. "I'm glad to be home though."

"It's certainly been a while," Eric agreed.

Andy nodded. "Haven't been here since Christmas."

Eric was 19 and therefore finished with school. He had decided against going to college, which was peculiar for a future king, but their parents had allowed it because…well, because they'd always let Eric do whatever he wanted. Andy couldn't help but think that it would have helped if Eric had been told no more as a child.

"Well, I'll see you later for dinner," Eric said, slipping past his brother and heading for the door.

"You're leaving?" Andy asked. "Where are you going?"

Eric grinned, looking positively gleeful about something. "There's something I need to take care off."

Andy frowned. That didn't sound good. He'd always gotten the feeling that Eric was up to something. He spent so much of his spare time in the library, pouring through books about mermaids and old sailor legends and other silly things. And he was always out on fishing boats, talking with the crew. Andy was pretty sure it had all started that day four years ago when Eric had been convinced the girl they'd seen out in the ocean had a tail. It was very strange, but he never said anything. Confronting Eric about anything never went well.

He watched his brother disappear out the door. With a shrug, he pulled the door open and stepped outside as well. There was someone he was dying to see.

* * *

><p><strong>So weird question, but does anyone have any idea how mermaids would have sex? Or give birth?<strong> **I don't actually need to know any of this for my story, but it was still something I was thinking about. **

**Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Please review!  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

Eric knew the Sea Witch was supposed to come onto land sometime that day, July 7th. And after spending years researching and talking with sailors about the legends of the sea, he even knew where she could be found. The problem was that he didn't know the exact time of her arrival. He would just have to wait. It was still pretty early in the morning and he could only hope he wouldn't have to wait too long.

He made his way down to the harbor, climbing aboard one of the fishing boats.

"Is everything in order?" he barked at the captain, a grizzled old man named Schmitt.

"Ay, Your Highness," Schmitt replied with a nod. "We can set sail now if you'd like."

Eric nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes. Hurry up."

"Right away, sir," the captain muttered.

Schmitt turned away and moved toward the helm of the ship, gripping the wheel. He began shouting orders to his crew and soon enough the boat began to move.

Eric leaned over the railing of the boat, staring out at the water. Reissa was a coastal kingdom and its main industries were shipping and fishing. Consequently, Eric had spent much of his life out on the water. He knew his way around a ship and was a skilled helmsman. He could easily be steering the boat right now if he wanted to be.

School had never interested him. The private tutors his parents had hired for him when he was younger had all been incompetent fools and he had passed all his classes at his boarding school with ease. He found that he learned much more teaching himself, whether it was by reading or by going out and actually experiencing the world himself. He would choose the open sea to a classroom every time. That was why he had chosen not to go to college. He knew there was nothing there for him to learn that he didn't already know or he couldn't learn easily in the real world. He had learned all his most valuable information about mermaids and the magical legends of the sea while talking with sailors and he knew it would serve him well. He couldn't wait for the day he could finally prove to the world that mermaids did indeed exist.

A drop of rain fell from the sky, hitting him on the nose. He glanced up, noticing for the first time how dark the sky had gotten.

* * *

><p>"Ariel, come back!" Marsious shouted, as he rounded a corner, just in time to see her disappear out the door of the castle.<p>

He followed her outside, pushing himself to swim faster. Why did she have to be so quick?

The farther they swam, the darker and emptier the ocean became. Marsious had no idea where they were or where they were headed. He wasn't sure how Ariel even knew where the Sea Witch lived.

After what felt like hours, but was probably actually less than one, they reached a cave. The water around them was dark and murky. Marsious couldn't see a single sign of life anywhere except the two of them; not even the smallest of fish wanted anything to do with this place.

Ariel slowed down, coming to a stop at the entrance of the cave. Finally, Marsious was able to catch up to her. He doubled over, trying to catch his breath. He hated that Ariel didn't seem the least bit enervated.

"Is this it?" he asked, straightening up and staring inside. It was much too dark to make out anything, but he felt a chill ran down his spine anyway. There was something very spooky about this place, something dangerous.

Ariel ignored him. To his utter horror, she began to move forward. He quickly grabbed her arm. "Ariel, no!" he hissed. "This is crazy!"

She yanked herself from his grip, turning to acknowledge him for the first time since they had left her bedroom. "Don't touch me!" she snarled.

He felt himself growing more and more frustrated. Why was she doing this? What was so incredible about land and humans that she was willing to risk everything? Why couldn't she just be content to stay here with him?

"You didn't seem to mind when I was touching you earlier!" he snapped. "In fact, I think it's safe to say that you quite enjoyed it."

"Yeah, well, everyone's allowed to make a mistake every now and then," she replied haughtily, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and surveying him disdainfully.

"Don't even try to write off what happed between us as a mistake," he said. "You were moments away from begging me to take you right then and there."

She let out a gasp, looking affronted. "I was not!"

"Yes, you were," he said, moving a bit closer to her. To his surprise, she didn't back away. "And I would have rocked your world, Ari."

She let out a sharp laugh, but he could see her cheeks turning pink. "Yeah, right."

He smirked when her voice quivered. "Are you doubting my capabilities?"

"Entirely."

"I've never had any complaints," he murmured.

"Shut up, Marsious!" she exclaimed. "I know you've never…you know."

He laughed. "Come on, Ariel. I think you're old enough now to be able to use the word sex without being embarrassed."

"Fine!" she snapped. "I know you've never had sex!"

He lifted an eyebrow, grinning at her cockily. "How do you know? I don't tell you everything, you know."

"You…you have?" she stammered, her face flushing.

"Nope," he replied. "I just wanted to see how jealous you got when you thought that I had."

"You're an ass!" she hissed, her hands moving to her hips as she glared at him. "And I wasn't jealous!"

"You know you were, sweetheart."

"You're impossible!" she snarled. She turned back around and began to swim into the cave.

Marsious followed her inside, swearing under his breath. He squinted into the darkness as they swam. The ground was covered in some kind of brown seaweed. He looked closer, letting out a startled shout when he realized the plants were looking right back at him with wide, desperate eyes. These were the mermen and mermaids who Ursula had punished for not keeping up their end of the bargain.

Ariel turned, looking annoyed. "What's wrong?"

He gestured downwards. "They used to be merpeople, Ariel. They used to be like you. Don't throw your life away like they did. It's stupid and unnecessary."

She glanced down, her look of determination seeming to falter for a moment as the plants reached out towards her, begging for her help. But then straightened back and crossed her arms definitely. "I have to do this, Marsious! I'm sorry, but I do."

With that, she turned and continued swimming. He sighed heavily, knowing he had no other choice but to keep following her down the long passageway.

Moments later, they emerged in a huge, circular room. At the other end sat large chair. It looked almost like a throne. But Ursula was not sitting in it. In fact, she was nowhere to be found.

Ariel let out a frustrated groan.

"Well, gee," Marsious said, "I guess she's not home. That's too bad. Guess we better get back to the castle."

Just as he was turning to leave, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun around. From the shadows emerged two eels.

"Well, well, well," one of them said.

"What do we have here?" the other continued.

"Two young merpeople, a long way from home."

They were circling, their eyes roaming up and down Marsious and Ariel hungrily.

"But was it you seek?"

"Are you star-crossed lovers?"

"Looking for a way to finally be together?"

"I wish to see the Sea Witch," Ariel said, her voice shaking.

"She's not here right now, dearie," one of the eels replied.

"But she'll be back within a day or two," the other added.

Disappointment flashed across Ariel's face. "Oh," she muttered. "Well, that's okay. I'll just come back then."

Marsious grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exit. "Let's get out of here, Ariel. Now."

She didn't protest and, to his surprise, she didn't let go of his hand once during their entire journey home. They swam side by side the entire time, fingers entwined, not saying a word. It wasn't until they reached the outskirts of the kingdom that she slipped her hand from his. He watched helplessly as she began to swim upwards. "Where are you going?" he called after her retreating figure.

"I'll come back!" she shouted back. "I just need to be up there right now."

He sighed, turning back towards the kingdom, back towards the place they both belonged.

* * *

><p>A knock on her bedroom window startled Clarissa. She hopped off her bed and ran over to it, pushing back her curtains. Andy stood on her balcony, grinning broadly. She smiled back, throwing open the window. He stepped inside, immediately pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, breathing him in.<p>

"I thought you weren't coming back until next week," she murmured into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Change of plans," he replied, cupping her chin and lifting her face up to his. She sighed into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There was a part of her that was surprised whenever Andy showed up at her house when he was home from school on holiday. This thing between them had been going on for two years, since they were 14 years old. He had been the first boy who had ever paid any attention to her. The first boy who had ever made her feel pretty and special. The first boy who had ever kissed her. The _only_ boy who had ever kissed her. But he was a prince and she was nobody. Yes, her parents were wealthy aristocrats, but Clarissa knew there were plenty of girls out there better suited for him. Although he was not the heir to the throne like his brother, she knew he had to have girls throwing themselves at him left and right. He and Eric did not have much in common, except for two things: They were both exceptionally handsome and they were both very aware that they were exceptionally handsome. The jealous, self-conscious part of Clarissa couldn't help but assume that she was just a fun distraction for him when he was at home. He probably had plenty of other girls waiting for him when he returned to school, girls who went to all-girl school that was located near his all-boy school. Girls who were prettier than she was. Girls who weren't saving themselves for marriage like she was.

"Are your parents home?" he murmured into her ear.

She shook her head.

"Good," he said, picking her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her over to the bed.

He set her down and she lay back, gazing up at him as he kicked his boots off and climbed on top of her. His hips dug into hers as he pressed hot kisses against the base of her throat. She could feel the evidence of just how much he wanted her pressing against her. She moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair.

The thing about Andy was that when she was with him, she always ended up going farther than she meant to. It wasn't that he ever pressured her into doing something she did not want to do. No, he had always been a gentleman. When she had told him that under no circumstances would she be sexually intimate with a man until her wedding night, he had assured that was fine and he understood completely. But although they had never gone all the way, they had still done more than she knew they should have, especially considering they were not betrothed. In fact, they weren't really anything. She had no idea how to categorize their relationship. He was not courting her. If he was courting her, her parents would know about him and his parents would know about her. They would go on chaperoned dates and they would talk about the future. But they never did any of that. He'd never once even told her he loved her. She had never told him either. Not because she didn't love him, but because she feared that he didn't feel the same way. If he loved her, why wouldn't he tell her? Why would he be so determined to keep their relationship a secret from everyone? Was he ashamed of her?

His mouth moved to hers and she kissed him passionately, trying to clear her head of all those ever-present worries. None of it mattered right now, not when he was here with her, not when his hand was sliding under her dress and he was whispering in her ear how much he had missed her.

Right now, he was hers and she was his.

* * *

><p>The boat was rocking furiously side to side. Eric stood on deck in the pouring rain, watching as the crew ran frantically about, trying to keep it afloat and navigate through the choppy waters. He knew he could help them—that he should help them—but he was too frustrated. He had waited four years for this day! If he missed his chance to meet with the Sea Witch and he had to wait another four years, he just might be angry enough to kill someone.<p>

Suddenly, a large wave came crashing over the side of the ship. Eric and most of the crew were swept away into the ocean. He immediately grabbed onto a barrel that had fallen off the ship, desperately waiting for someone left on board to throw down a rope to pull him back on board. But, minutes later, an ever bigger wave hit and the boat capsized, dumping the rest of the men into the water. Eric desperately clung to his barrel as the waves crashed over him. He was being thrown in every direction. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't hear anyone. He was surely going to drown!

A huge wave it him and he lost his grip on the barrel. He felt himself sinking, sinking… He tried to swim upwards, but he was too tired, too weak. He was losing consciousness. Right before everything went black, he felt a hand grab him.

* * *

><p>Eric opened his eyes, blinking as everything came into focus. He was laying at the edge of the ocean, where the water became only sand, staring up into the face of a girl. She had huge blue eyes and long red hair. He was sure he had seen her before. But where?<p>

He slowly sat up, rubbing his head. The girl's eyes widened and she lurched backwards. "Wait!" he called. To his surprise, she did. She was sitting in the shallow water, her tail out in front of her. Suddenly he knew, she was the girl from four years earlier. The mermaid.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

"This is where I want to be," she murmured back. "I want to be human like you."

Before he could reply, she was swimming back out to sea. He watched as she dove underwater, disappearing from sight.

One thing was clear—this mermaid, whoever she was, was extremely curious about the human world. It the only way to explain why she had risked everything just to be here, just to talk to him.

A smile spread across his face as he glanced up at the sky, trying to gauge the time. It was still afternoon. He just had to figure out a way to get to the island where the Sea Witch was said to be. Because now, after talking to that mermaid, he had a brilliant idea. And he would need the Sea Witch to set everything in motion. He needed her more than ever.

* * *

><p>Ariel felt like an idiot. Why had she stopped when that boy had asked her to? Why had she let him see her tail, let him see what she was? Why had she spoken to him and told him her deepest desire? It was so stupid, so foolish. What Marsious say if he knew? What would her father say?<p>

But he was so handsome. She had been watching while he was sailing around on his boat and when he had fallen into the water, she had immediately found him and dragged him to shore. When he had spoken to her, she wasn't thinking clearly. She just wanted to talk to him. She wanted him to like her.

She was so stupid.

And more determined than ever to become human.

* * *

><p>The boat drew closer to the island and Eric leaned forward eagerly. To his utter delight, he could see a woman standing on the shore.<p>

He had found a fishing boat that was willing to take him out to sea on such short notice and they had set sail immediately because the weather had calmed completely. Now here they were and there she was. Everything was falling into place perfectly. The ship anchored and Eric hurried down the ramp. The woman turned, watching as he ran towards her. She was beautiful, with dark brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders large brown eyes. She lifted an eyebrow as he came to a stop in front of her, gazing at him almost seductively.

"This is certainly a pleasant surprise," she murmured.

Her voice was raspy, but Eric liked it. It was sexy. Not like the other girls, the ones he'd grown bored with.

"And why is that?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over her.

She was wearing a tight blue dress and it hugged every curve tightly. Her breasts were practically straining to escape their confines. He would gladly help them with their mission.

"Normally the ones who come to find me are old sailors, dirty and stinking of booze, sometimes with a few teeth missing. Those are the types that tend to believe the legends, the ones who believe I exist. I don't think I've ever had someone as young and handsome as you come looking for me up here before. What's your name, hon?"

"Prince Eric," he replied.

She smiled. "A prince, huh?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, Your Highness, please don't call me ma'am. I may be a few centuries old, but I certainly don't look it right now, do I?"

He shook his head. "Not at all," he murmured, gazing unabashedly at her chest.

"Call me Vanessa," she said. "That's what I like to go by when I'm up here."

"All right, Vanessa," he said. "I'd like to make a little deal with you."

"Of course you would, sugar," she said, holding out her arm. "Now why don't you take me on board that little ship of yours and we'll talk all about it."

He took her arm and led her onboard. They ignored the curious stares from the crew and they went below deck, into an empty cabin where they could talk in peace.

She sat down on the bed and he leaned up against the wall.

"Here's what I want," he said. "There's a certain mermaid. I don't know her name, but she's got red hair, blue eyes, and a green tail. I have a feeling she'll come looking for you soon in order to make a deal with you herself. She wants to be human and I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make that happen. When she comes to you, I want you to give her what she wants. Give her legs. But here's the important part— I don't want you to take something from her in return at that time. I know you usually only come to shore every four years, but I also know you_ can_ come any time you want. So in a year, after I am happily married to this mermaid, I want you to come ashore and take it then. And I want you to give it to me."

"And what is it that I'm supposed to take from her?" she asked. "What is it that you need from her?"

He crossed the room, sitting down beside her on the bed. Leaning over, he whispered the answer in her ear. She leaned back, a small smile on her face. "My, my, that's a lot to ask. What shall I get in return?"

"King Triton's trident," he replied. "When I have control of the mer-kingdom and the king is powerless, I will make sure you get it. You will have power over all the seas."

"Well, that certainly sounds like a good deal to me," Vanessa replied. "Shall we sign the contract now?"

"Wait," he said. "I want more."

"I can give you more," she replied. "But you'll have to give me more in return."

Eric could think of nothing he had that he would be willing to give away and that the Sea Witch would find useful. But then a thought occurred to him and he smiled.

"Vanessa," he said, in his most charming voice. "You live all alone, do you not?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"You must be starved for company then," he said, lifting his hand and tracing it over the smooth skin of her arm.

"I am indeed," she replied, shivering slightly.

"When was the last time you had any…intimate connection with someone?" he asked.

She closed her eyes for a moment. "It's been much too long," she said. "It was when I was up here, of course. But, oh, it's been decades."

"Decades?" he repeated. "That's terrible."

Her bright red lips parted slightly as she gazed up at him. "Yes," she purred. "Would you care to remedy that for me? I could probably arrange that you get everything you want afterwards."

Eric smiled, leaning in. This had been too easy.

* * *

><p>Afterwards, as Eric lay on the bed, with Vanessa curled up beside him, he couldn't help but grin widely. He supposed that he ought to be a little ashamed that he had basically whored himself out to get what he wanted, but he wasn't. In his mind, he had just killed two birds with one stone. He had gotten laid for the first time in weeks <em>and<em> he had set is entire plan into motion. He couldn't help but feel extremely happy with himself. Then again, it was rare that he didn't.

He knew that the Sea Witch's true form was nothing like the one lying beside him right now. She was centuries old and had octopus tentacles instead of legs. But she looked stunning right now, so he didn't particularly care. Besides, he felt a bit smug. She was so old and had experienced so much. He was only 19, but he had still been able to make her scream his name, begging for more. Girls had always told him that he was skilled in bed, but this really proved it.

It was a damn good day, if he did say so himself.

* * *

><p><strong>So between Marsious, Ariel, Andy, Clarissa, and Eric, there were a lot of hormone-addled teenagers in this chapter, haha.<strong>

**Make sure you leave me a review! I like to know how many people are reading my stories. It gives me motivation to update more often!**


	5. Chapter 5

Marsious looked up from where he was sitting on Ariel's bed as she swam into the room. She let out a frightened gasp when she saw him and lurched backwards, her hands on her chest.

"You scared me, Marsious! What are you even doing in here?"

"I wanted to make sure you came back," he said.

"I said I would, didn't I?" she replied, crossing her arms over chest. "It's not like I could have stayed up there without legs anyway."

"But you're going to go see the Sea Witch in a day or two when she returns, aren't you?" he muttered. "You're going to leave and never come back."

She nodded. "I have to, Marsious. It's where I belong."

He let out a frustrated sigh, remembering what he'd heard her father saying about the prophecy four years ago. If she became human and went up to live on land, she was sure to fall in love with another human. If he let her go, he would be consciously allowing her to destroy the only world he knew.

"No, you don't!" he groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "You belong here." _With me,_ he added silently.

She swam over to the bed, and to his surprise, lay down beside him. "I met a boy up there," she murmured.

He gaped at her in shock. "What do you mean 'met'?" he asked. "You talked to a human?"

"He saw my tail," she replied. "I had no choice. Besides, he didn't even seem that shocked to see me. It was almost like he already knew that mermaids exist. He just asked me what I was doing there and I told him I wanted to be human. Then I swam away. That was it."

"God, Ariel," Marsious said, exasperated, "you can't just reveal yourself to a human. We can't trust them! That man could have very well taken you somewhere, locked you up, and performed experiments on you or something."

"I know it was stupid," Ariel said. "But he seemed nice enough. Nicer than you, at any rate."

He glared at her. "I'm nice!"

She rolled her eyes. "Marsious, you are many things, but nice is not one of them."

He smirked, scooting a bit closer to her. "Many things, huh? Like what?"

"Well," she said, her gaze roaming over his face and down his body. "You're not bad looking."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh yeah?"

"Some might even say you're quite handsome," she continued.

"Would you be one of them?" he asked.

A blush spread over her face. "Maybe," she murmured, biting her lip. She was too damn cute.

"What else?" he asked.

Her gaze settled on his mouth. "You're a pretty good kisser."

"Do you want me to kiss you, Ariel?" he murmured.

She nodded. "Yes, please."

He rolled over, pinning her against the bed. "All right then," he said, lowering his face to hers.

* * *

><p>It had only been a day since Eric had seen that mermaid again and made a deal with the Sea Witch, but he could already feel himself growing impatient. He'd been wandering around the castle for nearly an hour now, just thinking about everything. He'd waited four years to set his plan in motion and now that it had finally happened, he just wanted something else to happen. He wanted to be able to check off another step in his plan. He wanted that mermaid. Unfortunately, he didn't have her yet and he desperately needed something to take his mind off of everything. Or better yet, <em>someone <em>to take his mind off everything.

"Good evening, Your Highness," a voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

He glanced up. A maid was standing a few feet away, smiling at him. He studied her for a moment. She was young and pretty and wearing a bit more makeup than was necessary or normal for a housemaid. She was pretty generic; there was nothing about her face that he'd remember, nothing about her that set her apart from any other girl he'd been with. But at this point he was a bit desperate and he'd never been very picky anyway. As long as a person didn't look like a troll you'd find under a bridge, he'd probably sleep with them. They didn't even have to be female. He'd been with several men before, although they were obviously harder to find. The first time he'd been attracted to a man, he'd felt like a freak. He'd heard about it happening before—men who were intimate with other men—but he'd never witnessed it firsthand. It was something that was only whispered about. Nobody dared to be open about it. He'd gotten over his shame though. Hardly anything embarrassed him anymore. Though he still wondered if there were others out there like him—people who were attracted to both sexes. All the men he'd been with had only been attracted to other men.

"Good evening," he replied softly. "Are you busy right now, er…?" He trailed off, waiting for her to tell him her name (even though he knew he would forget it by the next morning).

"Nellie," she said. "My name's Nellie. And no, sir, I'm not.

_What an ugly name_, he thought as he gave her his most charming smile. "Well, Nellie," he said, "I was wondering if you might like to help me with something in my bedroom."

Her smile grew wider. "Yes, sir," she said. "I'd like that very much."

He led her down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Pulling open the door to his room, he gestured for her to go in first. Girls loved things like that. They made them think that the man respected them, stupid things. Sure enough, she murmured a dazed-sounding "thank you," as she stepped inside.

Not surprisingly, she looked around his room with a look of delight and awe on her face. He watched her gaze sweep over the huge canopy bed with the silk sheets and velvet comforter, the crystal chandelier hanging above it, the expensive paintings on the wall with signatures even as someone as uneducated as a housemaid would recognize, and the huge glass doors that led out onto the balcony with a perfect view of the ocean.

"It's lovely," she whispered.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, trying to hide his impatience. He stepped closer to her, running his hands over the cheap fabric of her uniform. "Would you care to remove this or should I?"

The maid—what was her name again?—looked a bit surprised, as if she had expected him to woo her a bit before undressing her. Girls were all the same. They all claimed to want flowers and poetry and romance, but in reality they'd all give it up immediately to a man as long as he was rich and powerful enough.

"I'll do it," she said, quickly recovering from her shock. He watched as she pulled the dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She stood there for a moment in her undergarments, shivering and looking a bit unsure of herself. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed. She lay back and he climbed on top off her. The rest of her clothes were quickly discarded and so were his. She seemed a little hesitant as he kissed her and he began to think that she must be a virgin who'd had a moment of forwardness that she was now regretting. But once he'd pushed inside of her, he quickly discovered that was not the case, and she soon became much more responsive and eager.

"Oh, Eric," she moaned into his shoulder. "You feel so good."

He froze, staring down at her with disgust. "What did you just call me?" he spat.

Her eyes widened. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just thought since, you know… since we were…I could call you by your name."

He let out a sharp laugh. "You think because I'm fucking you that you're somehow my equal?" he asked. "You think that a lowly housemaid can address the future king by his first name simply because she spread her legs for him?"

She didn't respond, but he could see tears welling up in her eyes. He rolled off of her, annoyed that she had ruined the moment before he'd had a chance to finish. "Get out of my room," he muttered.

She didn't move. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I wasn't thinking, Your Highness. It just came out."

"GET OUT!" he snarled, giving her a shove to illustrate his point. He pushed her harder than he intended to and she clearly wasn't expecting it because she fell right off the bed. She burst into tears when she hit the floor and looked up at him as if she expected an apology. He didn't comply, but he did stand up and gather her clothes, tossing them at her.

"Don't worry about your job," he said as she hurriedly dressed herself. "I won't have you fired. But consider this a warning. Don't screw up again."

She nodded, but didn't say thank you. Ungrateful bitch. He watched in disgust as she hurried out of the room. Now he would have to find someone else to satisfy his needs.

* * *

><p>"I wrote you a song," Andy told Clarissa. "Would you like to hear it?"<p>

Clarissa nodded eagerly. "Yes, very much."

She'd spent the entire day at the castle with him in his room, kissing and talking and laughing. She wished it could always be like this. She wished he wasn't always away at school, doing God know what with God knows who.

He hopped off his bed and made his way across the room to his grand piano and sat down. Clarissa sat up, watching him intently. Andy had always loved music. She knew his parents wanted him to go off to University to study government and economics and whatever else a prince was supposed to study. But she knew he wanted to pursue music seriously. But she also knew it would never happen.

He began to play and the music floated through the air, soft and lovely. She closed her eyes, letting it waft over her and pretending that it meant something more than it probably did.

"That was beautiful," she said, after he had finished. "I didn't realize you wrote songs about me."

"Well, of course I do," he said, standing up and walking back over to the bed. "Who else would I write songs about?"

"I'm sure you have plenty girls around when you're at school to inspire you," she muttered, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

He frowned. "No, I don't," he said. "You're the only girl for me, Lissa. You know that."

Now it was her turn to frown. "No, I don't know that. You've never said anything of the sort. You just show up at my house whenever you're home on holiday and expect me to be around to kiss you. I've never been under the impression that I'm anything more than a nice distraction for you when you're here. I'm sure you have plenty of girls to keep you company at school."

He looked offended. "What are you talking about? Lissa, I think you're confusing me for my brother. I'm not some kind of whore, you know. You're my girl. You're it for me."

She paused, letting this sink in. All her worries, all her self-conscious doubts—they'd all been for nothing?

"Does this mean that you're a virgin too?" she whispered.

His mouth fell open. "You thought I was sleeping with other girls? Jesus, Lissa, why the hell were you even bothering with me if you thought I was such a pig? Of course I'm a virgin. If I haven't been with you, I haven't been with anyone."

"I bothered with you because I like you," she said. "A lot. You're nice and smart and make me feel pretty. But I just always thought that there was no way I could be enough for you."

He cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his. "Lissa, that's stupid. Of course you're enough for me. I love you."

Her eyes widened. "You…you do?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you ever tell me that before?"

He shrugged. "I was scared. It's not something I've ever said before. I don't even tell my parents I love them. Our family isn't the most affectionate. Besides, I wasn't sure if you felt the same way."

"Oh, Andy," she said. "I do, of course I do. But I always worried that _you _didn't feel the same way_. _That's why I never said it."

He smiled at her, but then his face grew serious. "Clarissa, I know we're only 16, but I know that I love you and that I want to be with you forever. I'm not going to propose to you right now because I know that our parents would freak out, especially considering they don't even know about us. But I do want to marry you someday. If you'll have me, of course."

"Of course I'll have you," she said, leaning into kiss him. "I love you, Andy."

After they had pulled apart, she glanced at the clock. "I need to be going," she said. "My parents are expecting me home for dinner."

She felt giddy as she left the room. Andy loved her. He _loved_ her! She could have broken into song and dance right then and there.

* * *

><p>Eric stepped out his bedroom, letting the door slam shut behind him. Maybe he could find another slutty maid to sleep with, one that wasn't as dumb as the last one. The door of his brother's room opened and a girl stepped out. Eric recognized her. She was Andy's little toy, the one who wouldn't even let him fuck her. God, his brother was so stupid. He could get any girl he wanted. Why he was stuck on this one was beyond him. Sure she was pretty, with light, curly brown hair and porcelain skin. But there were lots of pretty girls out there, ones that weren't prudes.<p>

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. There was no doubt this girl was saving herself due to some bullshit she'd heard repeated every week at church about purity and her wedding night. But the poor girl was probably sex-starved at this point. He was sure that if he whispered a few sweet things in her ear, she'd be begging him to take her. And he'd always thought there was something kind of satisfying about taking a girl's virginity.

"Clarissa," he called out, suddenly remembering her name.

The girl turned around, obviously surprised he was talking to her.

"Oh, hello, Your Highness," she said. "Can I, er…help you with something?"

He decided to just cut to the chase. He really, really just needed to get laid.

"It must get boring, doesn't it?" he asked, taking several large strides until he was face to face with her. "Waiting around for months and months for my brother to come home, letting him finger you a little, and then watching him leave again." He leaned down, putting his mouth against her ear. "I can show you what real pleasure feels like, Clarissa."

She backed away, looking affronted. "Andy and I are perfectly happy together, Your Highness. I have no intention of finding out 'what real pleasure feels like' until our wedding night."

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. "Come on, love," he said. "You look like you could use a bit of excitement in your life. A pretty girl like you deserves more than boring ol' Andy."

"Andy's not boring!" she exclaimed, struggling to free herself from his grip. "I love him and he loves me."

"How precious," Eric drawled, not letting go. He kind of liked watching her struggle. It made him feel powerful. It made him want her even more.

He took several steps to the side, repositioning them so that he had her pressed up against the wall, trapped.

"Let me go!" she hissed.

"I don't think so," he said, running his hand over the soft skin of her arm. "You see, Clarissa, when I want something, I always get it. And right now I want you."

For the first time, he could see fear in her eyes. "Let me go," she said again, squirming frantically in a pathetic attempt to escape.

He laughed. "I already said no, didn't I?"

For a moment the fear in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a fiery anger. "You're a horrible person!" she snarled. "And someday you'll get what's coming to you!"

"I doubt it," he said simply, lifting up the hem of her dress.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Marsious awoke to find Ariel swimming out the door.<p>

He'd spent the past two nights in her bed. They hadn't done anything except some kissing and mild groping, but he'd stayed because she asked him to.

"Ariel, wait," he called after her.

She stopped, turning around.

"You're going to see _her_, aren't you?" he asked.

Ariel nodded and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop her. It was what he'd always liked about, after all—her independence. She'd set her mind on leaving and he knew that she'd find a way to make it happen.

"Don't leave just yet," he muttered.

* * *

><p>Ariel sighed. She knew everything would be a lot easier if she just took off now. The more time she spent with Marsious, the harder it would be to leave. But he was staring at her with those big aqua-colored eyes and without even meaning to, she found herself swimming back over to the bed.<p>

They were kissing almost immediately, their hands roaming everywhere, exploring. She ran her fingers down the length of his torso, to the spot where his skin turned into scales. She wished she could just peel his tail away—as well as her own—and underneath discover that miraculously they both had legs. Then they could go and live on land together. She could get what she'd always dreamed about without ever having to give him up. But she knew it wasn't possible. Marsious would never willingly become human, not even for her.

"Stay with me, Ari," he murmured in her ear.

She shivered. It was the first time she'd ever liked the way the name Ari sounded. He'd called her that for years, but suddenly it didn't sound like a pesky nickname. It sounded like a term of endearment.

"Stay here and marry me," he continued. "I'll make you happy, I swear. I love you, Ari."

She pulled back slightly. "You do?" she gasped.

"I've always loved you," he whispered, lifting his head and kissing her jaw.

"No, you have not! I annoyed the hell out of you and you annoyed the hell out of me."

"No, I loved you, I swear," he said, kissing his way down her neck.

She decided not to press the issue. Instead she closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to stay here and marry him like her father wanted. If he continued to make her feel like this, could it really be that bad? Maybe she could be happy as his wife. Because the more he kissed her, the less she wanted to leave. But she had to! This place had always stifled her. There was nothing down here for her. One kingdom in the middle of a vast ocean wasn't enough. She wanted to see the world. And the world was up there. She had to be up there. It was where she belonged. It was where she had always known she belonged.

She rolled off of Marsious, knowing she had to put a stop to this before she did something really stupid like give him "her precious gift." Because she knew if she lost her virginity to him, she really would never be able to leave.

"I have to go," she said. "Promise me you'll let me, Marsious. Promise me you won't follow me and you won't tell anyone where I've gone. You have to pretend you don't know."

"I promise," Marsious said.

* * *

><p>Marsious knew that Ariel hadn't seen him crossing his fingers behind his back when he made his promise. It wasn't that he wanted to, but that he had to. That prophecy existed and if he didn't tell the king where Ariel had gone, everything they knew would be destroyed.<p>

He swam past the guards, ignoring their shouted protests, and pushed open the doors to the throne room.

The king looked up. "Marsious!" he exclaimed. "What in the world are you doing in here?"

"It's Ariel, Your Magesty," Marsious replied, bowing quickly. "She's gone to see the Sea Witch. She plans to ask her for legs and go live up on land."

King Triton's eyes widened. "This is not good," he said. "Not good at all. Marsious, there is something you should know. It's about a prophecy—"

"I already know," Marsious interrupted. "I overheard you and my father talking about several years ago."

The king nodded. "Then you know that something must be done to bring her back."

"But what?" Marsious asked. "I know that Ursula has enchantments around her cave preventing you and your men from entering. And once Ariel is up on land, there will be no way to retrieve her. Your power is useless on land."

"There is a way," the king replied. "But I'll need your help, Marsious. How far are you willing to go to save her?"

"I'll do whatever it takes."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope that its become excessively obvious that Eric is an actual worthless piece of shit. I do not want to read any comments on here like: "OMG TEAM ERIC 5EVER!11!1." I'm certainly not saying any of you leave comments like this, but I'm assuming that anybody who supports an abusive, rapist asshole would. I know you probably all loved Prince Eric in the movie (I did too!) but clearly this is a very different character.<strong> **Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Where were you at dinner last night?" Andy asked the next morning at breakfast.

Eric shrugged. "I was just tired."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You were with another girl, weren't you?"

Eric smirked. "You caught me," he drawled. "I was with a girl."

He figured it would be best not to mention that girl was Clarissa, especially considering the not so consensual nature of the whole encounter. Andy wasn't smaller than him anymore and he wasn't sure which one of them would win in a fight.

"You're going to catch some sort of disease, did you know that?" Andy asked, taking a bite of toast.

"Well, we can't all be prudish virgins like you, Andrew."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Eric."

"It was a joke. Jeez, calm down."

"I'm perfectly calm," Andy responded. "But you've been acting very strange all morning. Really defensive or something."

"Are you going to see Clarissa today?" Eric asked, ignoring his brother's question.

Andy shrugged. "Yeah, probably. Why?"

Eric didn't reply as he turned his attention back to his food. He hoped that Clarissa didn't mention to Andy what Eric had done to her. Last night, he'd been rather confident that she wouldn't. After all, who would believe the claims of a random 16-year-old girl over the word of the future king? But now he wondered if that would stop her from telling Andy. Then again, even if she did, what could happen? He was practically untouchable. Andy would hate him obviously, but he could live with that.

"What about you?" Andy asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Do you have any plans for today?"

"No," Eric said and for once he was telling the truth. "I think I'm just going to go take a walk down by the beach after this."

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Eric did indeed head down to the beach. The sun was shining brightly and even his distracted, impatient state, he couldn't help but notice that it was a beautiful day. His mood was improved even more when he noticed a lone figure standing at the edge of the ocean a few yards away. He was one of the youngest of his father's advisors, an earl who had recently inherited his title after the passing of his father. Though he was married to a woman, Eric knew plenty well that their marriage was one based merely on convenience, not on attraction or love.<p>

"Good morning, Charles," he called out as he strode across the sand.

The earl turned, a pleased look crossing his face when he saw who was addressing him. "Hello, Your Highness," he replied, running his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair as he smiled cockily.

Eric came to a stop in front of the man and returned his smile. "I thought I told you to call me Eric."

Charles closed the small gap between them, leaning forward to whisper in Eric's ear. "I like calling you 'Your Highness.' It turns me on."

Eric let out a low moan as he felt the other man's arousal press against him. It had been ages since he's been with a man. "How's your wife?" he teased.

"Still fucking the gardener," Charles replied. "But the joke's on her, because I'm fucking him too."

Eric pulled back in surprise. "You mean your gardener is attracted to both men and women?" he asked.

Charles laughed. "Why're you acting so shocked, Eric? Aren't you the same way?"

"Well, yeah," Eric stammered. "But I hadn't realized there were other people like me."

"Oh, Eric," the earl replied. "Sometimes I forget you're only 19. There's so much of the world you have left to experience."

"You're not that much older than me," Eric replied, suddenly feeling defensive. He hated being treated like a child. He had hated it even when he _was_ a child. Back when he and Andy had nannies, he'd gone out of his way to make sure he made their lives as miserable as possible. He'd gotten as many of them fired as he possibly could (even though it only meant another one would be hired in her place). Sometimes he'd be able to convince Andy to help him, but then he'd always feel guilty afterwards and refuse to participate in Eric's schemes for a while. One of Eric's least favorite nannies had been a fat German lady named Helga. She was constantly monitoring his every move and every time he tried to do anything fun, she'd send him to his room. She was a stickler about bed time too, which Eric _despised._ The best things always happened after dark. So he'd lied and told his parents that Helga had inappropriately touched him while he was sleeping. They immediately had fired her, and the next nanny they hired let Eric and Andy eat candy before they went to bed. Helga had probably never gotten hired anywhere else considering what Eric had accused her of, but Eric didn't care. The stupid bitch deserved it.

He felt Charles's hand reach for the button on his trousers, but Eric grabbed his wrist and yanked it away. "Not here," he hissed.

Charles glanced around the empty beach. "There's no one around, Eric."

"Someone could walk by!" Eric exclaimed. "I can't be seen with you. It would ruin me."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Well, come on then," he said, grabbing Eric's hand. "Let's go somewhere more private."

* * *

><p>Clarissa followed Andy into his room, trying her best to appear normal. She didn't want him to notice that anything was wrong. She hadn't been able to sleep at all the night before. She just laid there for hours, reliving what happened to her over and over again. The fear. The pain. And then the guilt had set in. She began to wonder if what had happened was somehow partly her fault. Maybe she led him on somehow. Maybe she didn't fight back hard enough. She'd contemplated telling someone about what had happened, but she'd decided against it. It wouldn't help. Eric would never see any consequences for his actions. He was the future king, for pete's sake. He could get away with murder if he wanted to. Hell, maybe he already had. She decided not even to tell Andy. Eric was his brother and she knew it would probably destroy their relationship. Or even worse, Andy wouldn't believe her. Or perhaps he wouldn't want her anymore because she was damaged goods. Yes, she decided. It was best to keep silent all together. She could get through this. She just had to try to forget. She had to try to pretend that nothing had happened. She had to pretend she was fine, perfect even.<p>

Andy threw himself down on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Clarissa hesitated. It was strange, suddenly feeling nervous about laying down next to him. For two people who had never consummated their relationship, they spent a lot of time in bed together. Since neither of their parents knew about their relationship, it involved a lot of time sneaking into each other's bedrooms and the bed just seemed like the natural place to sit (or lay) together.

She timidly lay down beside him, putting as much space between them as she could without being too obvious. Andy reached out, trailing his fingers down her bare arm. Clarissa lurched away.

_"Let me go!" she hissed._

_I don't think so," he said, running his hand over the soft skin of her arm. "You see, Clarissa, when I want something, I always get it. And right now I want you."_

"Clarissa?" Andy asked, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right?"

_Eric practically dragged Clarissa into his room, locking the door behind him. She screamed, but he covered her mouth with his hand. "There's no one around to hear you," he whispered, his blue eyes mocking her. _

_She knew he was right. Andy had already gone down to dinner and there wouldn't be any servants around at this time. _

"I'm fine," she muttered hastily. "Your hand was cold, that's all."

Andy rolled over, pinning her against the bed. He felt heavier than usual, sweatier and stronger. She felt trapped. She tried to tell herself that it was fine, that everything was fine. She _wasn't_ trapped this time. Andy wasn't Eric. Andy wasn't Eric. Andy wasn't— but, oh, god, they certainly looked alike. The same wavy black hair. The same piercing blue eyes. But it was okay. They had the same eyes, but Andy's were only filled with kindness and love. They were nothing like Eric's empty, cold ones.

_He pinned her against the bed. She couldn't move. There was no way to escape. The horrible realization that this was real, that this was actually happening and she could do nothing to stop it, hit her like a ton of bricks. _

"_Don't," she murmured weakly, knowing it would do no good. "Please."_

_He laughed—a sharp, humorless laugh. "I don't think so."_

"Andy, don't," she said, pushing against his chest.

He rolled off her. "Lissa, seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she insisted. "I just can't do this right now."

"Okay," he said. "That's fine. Do you just want to talk?"

She chewed on her fingernails, staring at him. Just being in the same room as him made her feel nervous and uncomfortable. She knew he'd never hurt her, but just the thought of being touched by anyone was enough to make her want to puke. Her stomach churned as she looked into his eyes. Why did they have to be so eerily similar to his brother's?

"Lissa?" he asked. "Did you hear me?"

"I…what?"

"I asked if you just wanted to talk," he said. "I'm getting the sense that something's on your mind."

"I can't do this!" she blurted out.

"We established that," he said. "That's why I'm asking if you want to talk instead."

"I don't mean kissing," she said. "I mean I can't do this whole relationship. I can't be with you anymore."

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a bark of humorless laughter that made her flinch. He sounded exactly like Eric.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked. "This is some weird kind of joke that isn't really funny right now but we'll laugh about later on."

"No," she said. "No, Andy, I'm serious."

His eyes narrowed. "This doesn't make sense. Yesterday, you said you loved me. Yesterday, you said you wanted to marry me someday."

"I know," she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "And I'm sorry, Andy, but we're only 16. We're too young to be making such a huge commitment."

"It wasn't a commitment!" he exclaimed. "I didn't propose or anything. All I was saying was that I want to someday. I didn't mean to scare you off. It's not like you're going to be held to anything. If we get older and you realize you don't want to marry me, then that's fine! But you have to at least stick around for a while and see!"

"I don't_ have_ to anything!" she hissed, his choice of words hitting a nerve. "I don't _have_ to do anything I don't want to do!"

His mouth fell open. "I didn't mean it like that, Clarissa. Of course you don't! I just meant that I _wish_ you would stay. Everything was going great between us. I don't understand why you want leave now."

"I just have to," she muttered, heading for the door.

Once she was out of the room, she stopped, turning back around and peering in through the crack in the door. Andy was still sitting on the bed. She couldn't see his face. But then he turned slightly and she saw his eyes. She gasped, lurching back. They had been filled with the same coldness Eric's had been the previous evening. Never had the two of them looked more alike than in that moment.

She hurried down the hallway, not looking back.

* * *

><p>Andy stood up, feeling angrier than he had in a long time. What the hell had just happened? Why would she break up with him a day after they declared their love for each other for the first time?<p>

He reached for the item that happened to be closest to him—an empty silver candlestick. He hurled it at the mirror that hung on the wall, a strange feeling of satisfaction washing over him as the mirror shattered into pieces. But then he froze. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't this kind of person. He wasn't the angry type who broke things to feel better.

A maid came rushing in, having evidently heard the noise. "What happened?" she asked, staring down at the shards of glass on the floor.

"I lost my temper for a moment," Andy mumbled, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry for making a mess," he added, as he turned to leave. "I hope it's not too much of a hassle for you to clean up."

"I thought he was the good one," he heard the maid mutter to herself as she stared down at the mess. "Perhaps he's not so different than his brother after all." She obviously thought Andy was out of earshot.

Andy whirled around, ready to tell her to shut up and mind her own business, but then he stopped himself, realizing how much those words sounded like something Eric would say. So he kept his mouth shut and pretended he hadn't heard her. He left the room without a word.

* * *

><p>"You look upset," Eric observed at lunch.<p>

Andy scowled, stabbing at his salmon with his fork. "Clarissa broke up with me," he muttered.

"Did she really?" Eric asked. "Well, you're probably better off without that little slut anyway."

Andy glanced up sharply. "What did you just call her?" he hissed.

"I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to ruin your relationship," Eric said, "but yesterday evening I ran into Clarissa when she was leaving your room. We started chatting and by the end of the conversation she was practically begging me to take her to bed. I didn't, of course, because I wouldn't do that to you, Andy. And now that your relationship is over, I thought you should know the truth about her."

Andy stared at his brother, trying to figure out if he believed him. Eric wasn't always the most honest person around, but why would he lie about Clarissa trying to seduce him? Unless he wasn't lying about that part. Perhaps he was lying about not actually sleeping with her. Since when had Eric cared about respecting anyone else's relationship? If Clarissa really had asked him to sleep with her, Andy wouldn't be surprised if Eric had done so without question. But that was ridiculous. Why would Clarissa do that? She'd always been insistent about saving herself for marriage. If she had changed her mind, why would she had gone to Eric instead of him? She had to know that Andy would have been more than willing to comply.

A horrible thought occurred to him. Perhaps Clarissa had only been with him in the hopes of getting closer to Eric. Maybe she was one of those girls who was desperate to be queen. If Eric really had rejected her advances, it would explain why she had broken up with Andy so suddenly. She finally realized she never really had a chance with Eric after all and there was no point using his brother anymore.

"I'm really sorry, Andy," Eric said. "But there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

* * *

><p>After lunch, Eric went back to the beach. Slipping off his shoes and rolling up the legs of his trousers, he sat down in the sand, letting the waves lick at his feet. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice a girl emerge from the water seemingly from out of nowhere. It wasn't until he finally glanced up a few minutes that he saw her, standing waist deep in the ocean, attempting to cover her naked breasts with her hands. She was looking off in the other direction and didn't seem to notice him.<p>

It was her, he realized. The red-haired mermaid.

"You look like you could use some clothes," he called out, getting to his feet. Apparently the Sea Witch hadn't given her human clothes as part of her transformation.

The girl glanced over in his direction, looking startled. She studied him for a moment and then recognition washed over her face.

"I…I know you," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied smoothly. "I would remember someone as beautiful as you."

It was best for him if she didn't know that he knew she was really a mermaid. Besides, it was quite plausible that in his delirious state after nearly drowning, he simply thought he dreamed that a mermaid had rescued him. He doubted she would press the issue too much.

Confusion flashed across her face. "But you were the boy from the…" She trailed off. "Never mind."

He cleared his throat, diverting his attention from her naked body, as if it was actually something that embarrassed him. "So, why exactly is a pretty girl like you out here all alone without any, er…garments?"

She glanced down at herself. "I ran away from home," she said. "I went for a swim in the ocean and I left my clothes right over there by that thing." She pointed toward a tree branch that was lying a few yards away from him. "But they must have blown away or been stolen because now they're gone."

Her nervous expression and stammering made it obvious she was coming up with this lie on the spot, but Eric pretended he didn't notice.

"You ran away from home, huh?" he asked. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I was being stifled there," she said. "I wanted to see the world."

Her tone had changed drastically. She sounded much more confident in her words. Eric assumed that this, unlike her last statement, was not a lie. It must really have been the reason she had chosen to be human.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Well then I insist you stay in my home until you find a place!" he declared.

The girl's eyes widened. "I couldn't do that!" she replied. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," he said. "It's a big place. We have plenty of extra rooms."

"Where do you live?" she asked.

He pointed toward the castle off in the distance. "Right there."

Her eyes widened. "You're…you're a prince?"

He nodded. "Indeed. Now I insist you accompany me back there right now. I'll find you an old dress of my mother's to wear and you can get cleaned up and fed."

He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. "Here," he said, holding it out. "You can wear this until then."

She began walking towards him, slowly and unsteadily, her face turning nearly the same color as her hair as the water grew shallower and more of her naked body became exposed. Eric tried to pretend he didn't notice.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the shirt and quickly putting it on. "You're very kind."

"My name's Eric," he added, watching as she buttoned it. "And you are?"

She glanced up, smiling shyly. "I'm Ariel."

* * *

><p><strong>So, someone left an anonymous review on the last chapter that seriously pissed me off. I deleted it, but this is what it said: <em>"OMG Eric is a badass stud. You teach those women whose boss ya big stud."<em>**

**I'm not sure if the reviewer was trolling or not, but it's an absolutely disgusting, inexcusable comment to make regardless. A man who rapes a woman is not a stud. Ever. A man who rapes a woman is the scum of the earth. If the person who wrote this review was not in fact trolling and does believe that what Eric did was somehow sexy, then I almost feel sorry for them. I'm assuming that reviewer is a girl, and the fact that any girl believes that it is somehow sexy for man to do what he wants to a woman without consent is alarming to me. Men should in no way ever be teaching a women "whose boss." Men are not the boss. They do not get to have their way with a woman just because they want to.**

**Sorry about this rant. I know the rest of you would never leave a review like that, but I really had to say something about it. I was so disgusted when I read it.**

**Anyway, on a more positive note, please review and let me know what you thought of the new chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

Andy lifted an eyebrow as he watched a young, red-haired girl enter through the castle doors, trailing timidly behind Eric and wearing nothing except his button-down shirt.

"Being a little blatant with your conquests now, aren't you, Eric?" he said. "Don't you think parading them half-naked through the grand foyer is a _bit_ much?"

The girl blushed furiously, staring down at her feet. Eric shot Andy a nasty look. "Ariel's not my _conquest_, Andy. I just met her at the beach. She went for a swim and her clothes were stolen. I told her I'd bring her back here and find her a dress to wear."

"How generous of you," Andy replied drily. He was quite certain that Eric's benevolent side would not of come shining through if the person in need had been anyone but a young, beautiful girl.

"I also told her that she could stay here for a little while. She ran away from home and has nowhere to go."

Andy's eyebrows shot up. "How long is little while?"

Eric shrugged. "Does it matter? We've got nothing but space to spare in this place. It's a _castle_, for God's sake."

"I just think that it might raise a few eyebrows, don't you think? A young girl living in the castle with just the two of us. If Mother and Father were here, perhaps it would be different, but…"

"It's not just the two of us," Eric countered. "There are plenty of other people that live here other than us, Andy. Servants are human beings too. And besides, Mother and Father are _never_ home, as you very well know."

Andy couldn't help but note a slight hint of disgust in his brother's final statement. "They're not always gone, Eric. Don't be so dramatic."

"It's often enough to be ridiculous! Father's the king for God's sake. You'd think he'd want to actually be around once and while to rule the kingdom."

"The kingdom has never been more peaceful and prosperous than it is now," Andy said. "He trusts that you can handle things in his place. It's good practice for your future. You'll be a better king because of it."

"Well, I'll certainly make a better king than that old fool!" Eric spat.

Ariel cleared her throat softly. Both boys spun around to look at her. Andy had practically forgotten she was there. He had a feeling that Eric had too, judging by the expression on his face.

"Sorry about that," Eric said, flashing her a charming smile. "Let me just find a servant to help get you cleaned up and dressed. Dinner's at eight. We hope you'll join us." He shot a pointed look at his brother. "Don't we, Andy?"

Andy smiled tightly, pulling open the front door of the castle. "Of course," he said. "Now if you'll both excuse me, I'm going for a walk. See you at dinner."

* * *

><p>Ariel stood in the bedroom the servant had presented to her as her own, mouth agape. It was huge. And the bed—it was the most comfortable looking thing Ariel had ever seen in her life. She walked over to it slowly, still feeling a bit unsteady on her new feet, and ran her hand over the soft fabric of the comforter. She sat down, sinking into the soft mattress, and lay back. She burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes. Dinner wasn't for hours yet; she had time for a nap. It had been a long day and she could use some rest.<p>

She could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that she had actually accomplished the one thing she had wanted to do for as long as she could remember. She had gotten legs. She had become human. It hadn't been as hard as she had expected it to be either. Everyone always talked about how unreasonable Ursula was, how impossible her bargains were. But Ariel couldn't help but think that she had received her legs with ease. Ursula had only asked for one thing in return and said that she was not ready to collect it yet. Though she had been a bit vague, her request had not sounded unreasonable or impossible. She had only asked that, when the time came, Ariel would provide her with some information she needed. Ariel had agreed because she did not think there was anything she could tell Ursula that would really be of any use to her. She was not privy to any vital information about the inner workings of the kingdom just because her father happened to be king. She hadn't read the small print on the contract before reading it; she was too impatient to get her legs. But it probably didn't matter anyway. It most likely only said what Ursula had told her out loud.

Ariel had been surprised that the first person she had run into after coming to shore was the boy she rescued during that storm a few days prior. She had been even more surprised to learn that he was a prince, the heir to the throne of Reissa. It had been rather embarrassing that he had seen her naked body, but he had been so immensely generous by providing her with clothes and a place to stay for as long as she needed. Eric was handsome too, there was no doubt about that. She had sensed some hostility in his voice when he was talking about his father, but everyone had some issues with their parents. She wouldn't hold it against him, at least not until she got more information about their relationship.

It had been odd to her at first that he did not seem to remember that she had rescued him, but then she had realized that he had probably been a bit delirious after nearly drowning and had chalked her up to being nothing more than some sort of dream or hallucination. After all, it was not surprising that someone like him would not be immediately accepting of the existence of mermaids and would invent some other explanation for what he had seen.

As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts returned to the home she had left behind. She wondered what her father was doing right now, or her sisters. Had they noticed she was gone by now? She felt guilty, knowing how worried they would be when they realized she wasn't coming back. She hoped that they realized she was safe and not dead somewhere. She hoped that they realized that she had gone somewhere she knew she could be happy and that they weren't too upset with her.

She hadn't been able to really say goodbye to any of them, of course. But she had made sure to tell them all she loved them the last time she saw them and gave them each long hugs. Some of her sisters had eyed her strangely and her father had asked her if she wanted something from him, but she was glad she had been able to part ways with everyone in her family on good terms.

Then, in the moment right before sleep washed over her, it was Marsious she saw in her thoughts. And after that it was Marsious she dreamed of.

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Ariel asked uncertainly, staring down at her plate.<p>

"Chicken," Eric replied, as Andy shot him a look that clearly asked one thing—Is this girl an idiot?

"Oh," she said simply.

It was clear to Eric that she had no idea what chicken was, but had realized that asking would raise suspicions. Though from the look on Andy's face, she already had.

"Do they not have chicken where you're from?" Andy asked, the edge of his lip curling up into a smirk.

Eric kicked him under the table. "Don't be a jackass, Andy. It doesn't suit you."

Andy glared at him. "My apologies," he snapped. "I didn't realize that you had the monopoly on being the jackass in this family."

"Andy just got dumped," Eric explained to Ariel. "That's why he's in such an unpleasant mood. He's normally not like this. He's actually a very nice person, almost too nice really. He makes the rest of us look bad."

"Believe me, Eric," Andy replied sourly. "You make yourself look bad without any help from me."

Eric's eyes narrowed as he watched his brother down his glass of wine in one large gulp. "You should go easy with that, Andy. You remember what happened last year, don't you? After Mariah died? Imagine if that had gotten out. If the public had found out the king's 15-year-old son had a drinking problem. I doubt the fact that you're 16 now would make it any less scandalous.

"At least I actually showed some emotion after losing my sister!" Andy hissed. "You didn't even cry during the funeral!"

"I never cry," Eric replied calmly. "That doesn't mean anything. Mariah's death was quite tragic, Andy. But she was sick her whole life. We all knew it was coming."

"She was your twin, Eric! She was your twin and you don't miss her at all!"

Eric glanced over at Ariel. She was looking back and forth between them, her eyes wide. He needed to make sure that when this conversation ended, she did not think poorly of him.

"Of course I miss her, Andy," he replied softly, hoping he sounded sincere. "Don't be ridiculous. I miss her every day. Now don't you think it's time we changed the subject? I think we're scaring poor Ariel."

Andy gave Ariel a strained smile. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "That was clearly not the kind of thing we should have been discussing in front of a guest."

"It's fine," she said. "All families have their issues."

"Speaking of families," Andy said, "where exactly is _your_ family? Eric mentioned that you ran away from home, but he didn't say why."

"It's a long story," Ariel replied vaguely. "I doubt you'd find it very interesting."

Eric thought that perhaps that it would have been smarter if Ariel had come up with some sort of plausible life story before becoming human. Honestly, did it not occur to her that people might ask these kinds of questions? Stupid girl.

"Don't pry, Andy," he said. "It's not polite. I'm sure that whatever caused her to run away was quite traumatizing."

"Yes," Ariel murmured. "Very traumatizing indeed."

Andy was still eying Ariel suspiciously, but he didn't ask any more questions.

* * *

><p>"Sorry about that little argument Andy and I had at dinner," Eric said.<p>

He had walked Ariel back to her bedroom after dinner and the two of them were standing outside her doorway.

"He really is a good person," he continued. "He just has some issues that he's trying to sort through right now. He'll lighten up once he gets over that little girlfriend of his."

"It's fine," Ariel said. "Really."

She was telling the truth. Yes, Eric and Andy's little outburst at dinner had surprised her, but like she had said, all families had their issues.

"I'm glad," Eric said, smiling at her.

She smiled back. He was so, so handsome. She could probably get lost in beautiful blue eyes if she gazed into them long enough.

"Well, goodnight," she murmured, stifling a yawn. It had been such a long day.

"Goodnight, Ariel," Eric replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss against her cheek. "And sweet dreams," he added, his breath warm against her face.

She felt a bit dazed as she fumbled with her doorknob and stumbled inside. Perhaps Eric would be the boy who helped her forget about Marsious.

* * *

><p>Eric lay in his bed, feeling extremely pleased with himself. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. He'd seen the look on Ariel's face as she had closed her bedroom door. She was already enamored with him. Soon, he would practically have her eating out the palm of his hand. And after he got her to marry him, the Sea Witch would come and take what he needed. After that, he'd be practically unstoppable. In a few years, he would have proved the existence of merpeople to the world and gained control of their undersea kingdom. He would be hailed as the greatest king the kingdom of Reissa had ever seen.<p>

Marrying Ariel wasn't necessary to successfully completing this little plan of his, but he figured it couldn't hurt. He was the future king after all. He needed a wife and an heir, and what could be more impressive than marrying a mermaid. He would be the first known human to do so and it would only further solidify his place in the history books.

He smiled smugly as he drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow, he would further woo Ariel. But for now, he would get some much deserved rest.

* * *

><p><strong>So, just so you know, we're not going to hear from Marsious for quite some time. What he's up to is top secret! <strong>

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Ariel stood at the edge of the ocean, letting the water wash over her newly-acquired feet. It was such a strange sensation, feeling the sand in between her toes, but she quite liked it.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" she heard a voice say from somewhere behind her.

She quickly spun around, nearly losing her balance in the process. Eric's brother, Andy, was standing a few feet away, smiling sheepishly at her.

"Oh," she said warily. "Yes, I suppose it is."

She wasn't sure what to think of Andy yet. Eric had insisted that his brother was a kind person, but he had been rather rude during both of their encounters the day before.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday," Andy said. "I'm not normally like that. Like Eric said, I got, er…_dumped_."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ariel said. "You must have really loved her."

He nodded. "I did…I _do_."

He took a few steps closer and sat down, patting the space beside him. She sat down next to him, hoping that the water and sand didn't ruin her dress.

"Andy," she said uncertainly, "I don't mean to pry and it's fine if you don't want to talk about it, but I know that you and Eric were talking about your deceased sister at dinner last night. I was merely wondering what happened to her."

"Mariah was Eric's twin sister," Andy said, staring out toward the horizon. "She was born with a many physical and mental disabilities. She was also very sickly and was basically bed-ridden her entire life."

"How horrible," Ariel murmured.

"The most horrific part was that it was almost like my parents were ashamed of her or something."

Ariel noted the same bitterness in his tone that had been present when Eric had talked about his parents. It seemed the king and queen of Reissa were not about to be nominated as parents of the year by their two sons anytime soon. Not that she could blame Andy and Eric for their resentment. From what she had gathered, their parents were hardly ever around. The thought saddened her. Although her father had done many things to annoy and anger over the years, at least he had always been there when she needed him.

"The kingdom didn't even know she existed," Andy continued. "They hid her away from the moment she was born and pretended that Eric was their only child until I came along three years later."

Ariel could do nothing more than shake her head in disbelief.

"My parents aren't bad people, Ariel," Andy said quickly, as if he suddenly felt guilty for the things he'd said. "They did love Mariah. I just don't think they handled her situation correctly."

"I should say not," Ariel agreed.

* * *

><p>Andy hadn't talked about Mariah in a long time. After she had died, it was almost like she had never existed. Neither his parents nor Eric ever mentioned her, so Andy did not either. It was strange to be sitting here, telling this girl he barely knew about her. He'd never even told Clarissa about his sister. Mariah had still been alive when he and Clarissa had begun their relationship, but he had never mentioned that she existed. He wasn't even sure why. It was almost if he had grown so accustomed to her being some kind of dirty secret that it hadn't even occurred to him that he <em>could <em>mention her. Even after Mariah died, he still didn't tell Clarissa what he was so upset about.

As he and Ariel sat in silence, his mind drifted to a memory he had tried not to think about since it had happened the year before.

_"Eric!" Mariah squealed gleefully, stretching her arms out toward her twin brother. _

_It was Mariah's bedtime and, because their parents were once again traveling and her nurse had the flu, Andy had insisted that Eric help him tuck her in and say goodnight. _

_Eric walked over to her bedside and crouched down. "Mariah, you need to go to sleep," he murmured. _

_She shook her head, reaching out and grabbing a chunk of his hair. Andy winced. He'd been on the receiving end of Mariah's hair-pulling many times before. The girl was surprisingly strong._

_"Jesus, Mariah!" Eric yelped, slapping her hand away. "Don't do that."_

_She stared up at him in shock, lip quivering, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment._

_Eric sighed. "Sorry," he muttered. _

_A single tear rolled down her cheek._

_Eric stood up, perching himself on the edge of her bed. "Come on, M," he said. "Don't cry. I said I was sorry, didn't I?_

_She pointed to a book sitting on her night stand, looking at him expectedly. _

_Eric groaned. "You want me to read to you?"_

_She nodded enthusiastically, all traces of tears gone. _

_Eric glanced over to where Andy was standing. "Can you read to her instead?" he asked. "I have some things I need to take care of before I go to bed." _

_Andy shook his head. "She wants you to read to her, Eric. I'm sure whatever maid you're planning on bedding tonight can wait."_

_Eric sighed again, picking up the book and opening it. "All right," he began, clearing his throat. "Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Cinderella." He paused, glancing back up. "This is a fairytale, Andy. Don't make me sit here and read a goddamn fairytale." _

_Andy couldn't help but think that Eric didn't really have any room to talk. He was the one who was obsessed with mermaids, after all._

_"Just read the story, Eric."_

_Andy watched silently as his brother read their sister the fairytale. If his plan had been to make her fall asleep while he was reading, he was failing miserably. She stayed wide awake the entire time, shrieking with delight over the fact that Eric did a different voice for each character. It always surprised Andy to see how good Eric was with Mariah. Most of the time he was cold and distant and hardly bothered with her (or anyone), but on the rare occasion arose when the two of them interacted for an extended period of time, he always managed to leave her at her most cheerful. Andy loved his sister, but he always felt awkward around her, not sure how behave. But Eric was so natural around her. Perhaps it was a twin thing._

_Eric closed the book, standing up to leave. Mariah grabbed his wrist. "No!" she cried. "Stay!"_

_Eric groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. But to Andy's surprise, he sat back down. "Mariah," he said, "I have to go sleep in my own bed."_

_She shook her head. "No," she said simply._

_"Yes."_

_"No."_

_"Fine," he sighed, laying down beside her. "But don't hog all the covers, yeah?"_

_She clapped her hands in delight, rolling over and resting her head on his chest. It was strange to think that they were the same age—both 18 years old. Mariah looked so small and frail compared to him, like a little girl. Eric smoothed his hand over her long, black hair._

_"Her hair's a ratty mess," he muttered. "You'd think that damn nurse of hers could at least brush it."_

_"Eric, she stays in bed almost all day," Andy said. "It's not that big of a deal. I'm sure the nurse has more important things to take care of."_

_"Well, considering all the money we pay her, you'd think she could manage to find the time."_

_Andy rolled his eyes. "Goodnight, Eric. Goodnight, Mariah." With that, he turned and exited the room._

_Later the night, he was shaken awake. His opened his eyes. As they slowly adjusted to the light, he could see that it was Eric standing next to his bed, staring down at him._

_"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting up. "What's going on?"_

_"She's dead," Eric said quietly. "Mariah's dead."_

_Andy's heart felt as if it had dropped into his stomach. "What?" was all he managed to get out._

_"I woke up and noticed she wasn't moving…or breathing. I checked her pulse and there was nothing, Andy. She was stiff and cold. She's dead, I'm sure of it."_

_Andy scrambled out of bed, frantically pulling on his robe and slippers. "How is this possible?" he cried. "She's been doing so well recently. She seemed so happy when you were reading to her!"_

_"I don't know!" Eric replied, sounding exasperated. "Do I look like a doctor?"_

_They both rushed down the hallway and into Mariah's room. Andy's breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the body of big sister. She looked small in death, even more frail than she had in life. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he knelt down beside her bed, taking her icy hand in his own. He glanced back at Eric, who was still standing across the room, hovering near the doorway. His eyes were dry and his expression blank. It was disconcerting, seeing how little he seemed to be reacting to his own sister's death. _

_"I'll go alert the servants and send a messenger to fetch Mother and Father," Eric said suddenly. _

_His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he dealt with the deaths of family members on a daily basis. Andy felt sick to his stomach. _

_He turned back to his sister, thinking about how much she had adored her twin brother. It was a strange thing, a human being's ability to love someone without ever receiving their love in return._

* * *

><p><em>Tap. Tap. Tap<em>.

Clarissa sat up, pushing the covers aside and hopping out of bed. It was only early afternoon, but she'd spent most of her time in bed these past few days. She crossed the room hurriedly. There was only one person who ever knocked on her window—Andy. But what was he doing here?

She opened the window and watched as he climbed inside, her hands on her hips. "I thought I made it clear that—"

"I need to talk to you," he cut her off, his eyes blazing with an intensity that she had never seen before.

She took a step backwards, trying to put as much space as she could between the two of them. "Fine. Go ahead."

"I just want to know if any of it was true," he demanded, his eyes smoldering. "When you kissed me, when you told me you loved me—was any of it real? Or was it all some elaborate plot to get closer to Eric, to the future king?"

"To get closer to Eric?" she exclaimed, caught off guard. "Where in the world did you get an idea like that?"

"He told me what happened. He told me that you propositioned him the night before we ended things, right after we had professed our love for each other."

Clarissa felt sick to her stomach. Was everything that awful boy had done to her not enough? He had to spread false rumors about her to top it all off? "So did you tell you whether he complied with my request?" she managed to ask, wondering just how far Eric had taken these lies of his.

"He said that he didn't," Andy replied. "But I have no idea if he's telling the truth. For all I know, the two of you did sleep together."

"Eric's not telling the truth about any of this!" she cried. "I didn't proposition him and I certainly didn't sleep with him!"

She wished she could tell him the truth, explain to him what had actually happened. But she was too afraid. She'd heard plenty of stories about women who had tried to accuse men of rape. Things never ended in their favor, especially when it was a rich and powerful man like Eric. They were too often shamed and ostracized, and their attacker always walked away scot-free.

"Well, then I know you must be hiding something else from me," Andy said. "Because it doesn't make sense for you to end things with me less than 24 hours after telling me you loved me and wanted to marry me someday. Something has got to be going on and I really wish you would tell me what it is!"

Clarissa shrugged helplessly. "I can't."

"You don't have to hide things from me," he whispered. "You can tell me anything, Lissa."

"Can I?" she asked. "Because you certainly keep things from me."

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but then it looked as if he remembered something—a secret he'd kept from her—and he shut it again.

She remembered the time last year, when he'd come climbing in her window, his eyes red from crying and his breath stinking of booze. She urged him to tell her what had happened, but he'd refused. He simply kissed her with more hunger than he ever had before. They'd been together for a year at that point, but he'd been away at school for most of that time. The extent of what they'd done together had only added up to a few innocent kisses. But this was different. This was all heavy breathing and tangled tongues and desperate hands. He never told her what had happened to upset him so terribly, but he drunk a lot that summer. Then he'd returned to school and when he'd come back home last Christmas, he seemed perfectly fine—sober and happy. Neither of them had ever mentioned what had happened during that summer again.

"This is ridiculous," Andy muttered, bringing her back to the present.

He took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them. In a second, his lips were on hers and she was not surprised to taste a slight hint of alcohol on his lips. He kissed her with the same desperation as he had on that day last summer. Only this time, _she_ was the one keeping a secret from him. How damaged they both were, she thought. How strange human beings were, keeping the most important things from the ones they loved, knowing it would ruin things between them, but doing it anyway.

For a moment, she kissed him back, too caught up in her love for him to remember what had happened to her. But then it all came flashing back, the fear and the pain and the heaviness she could not push off. She stiffened, her hands moving to Andy's chest. She shoved him away. "Stop," she hissed. "This is not going to happen anymore. We're done." She paused. "We're done," she repeated, as if telling herself this time.

"But I don't want it to be over," he murmured. "I want you, Lissa. Forever."

She stared at him. "You want me even though you think there's a possibility I slept with your brother?"

He shrugged. "I don't care about that," he said. "I just care about you."

Clarissa didn't know what to think. All her life, she had been taught that a girl had nothing more important to offer than her virginity. It was a precious gift that had to be saved for the right boy at the right time (her wedding night). If given away sooner, especially to a different boy, then she was immediately damaged beyond repair. No respectable man would ever want her as a wife. But what Andy was saying went against all that. He wasn't looking at her like she was damaged. He still wanted her, no matter what he thought she'd done.

"You need to leave," she muttered, feeling slightly dizzy. "Now."

He nodded once, his expression strangely blank. "Fine."

She watched as he climbed back out her window and disappeared. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Then her sadness was replaced by anger, an overwhelming anger toward Eric for what he had done. He'd scarred her, ruined her. The thought of being touched by anyone made her cringe. She even avoided her own parents' hugs. How could she ever trust anyone again?

* * *

><p>Andy weaved his way through the streets of town. He didn't know where he was going. He had no destination in mind. All he wanted to do was get his mind off everything—especially <em>her<em>.

"Hello, Andy," he heard a voice purr.

He spun around. Virginia Ashworth was standing outside a dress shop, smiling at him. Her blonde hair hung in ringlets around her face, covered with a lacy bonnet. In one hand, she held a hat box. In the other, a pink parasol.

Andy had known Virginia his whole life. Her father, General Ashworth, was one of the highest-ranking officers in his father's army. He'd always known she had a crush on him; it had been evident since they were five years old and she had kissed him under the huge pear tree on the castle grounds. She'd never particularly tried to hide it.

"Hello, Ginny," he said. "It's good to see you again. How have you been?"

"Well, better now that you're here. You're hardly ever home, Andrew," she scolded.

She moved closer to him, her steps slow and deliberate.

"Well, I've been at school," he said. "I don't really have much choice in the matter."

"But don't you miss me when you're away?" she asked.

"Of course," he lied swiftly. In truth, the two of them hadn't been close for several years. He liked her well enough, but she was a bit of a headache to deal with in large doses.

A clerk emerged from the shop, holding several more boxes. "Here are the rest of your things, Miss Ashworth. Shall I take them to your carriage for you?"

Virginia smiled. "I don't have a carriage actually. My parents commandeered both of ours for today." She shot a meaningful look at Andy. "I'm afraid I'm just going to carry all these boxes back to my house by myself."

"Nonsense," Andy said. "I'll help you."

Her smile widened. "You're a darling, Andy," she said, handing him her hat box and motioning for the clerk to hand over the rest of the boxes to him as well.

Virginia Ashworth was the only girl Andy could think of who'd so comfortably guilt a prince into acting as her own personal pack mule.

"There we go," she said, clapping her hands together as Andy struggled to maintain his grip on the many boxes. She opened her pink parasol, even though the sun was almost entirely blocked by clouds, and began to walk away. Andy followed her, carefully peering around the stack in his arms. It was lucky the Ashworth's home was only a few blocks away or he wasn't sure if he could have made it.

"Thank you so much, Andy," Virginia said, as they entered through the front door. A servant reached out for the boxes and Andy parted with them very willingly. "You're living proof that chivalry isn't dead."

Andy chuckled. "It was nothing, Ginny."

She leaned it, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Nonetheless," she murmured, "thank you."

The next thing that Andy did made him feel more like Eric than he normally cared to. He surreptitiously wiped away any of Clarissa's lipstick that might still be on his mouth and pressed his lips against Virginia's. She kissed him back for a minute or two before pulling away.

"Timothy Dewitt has been courting me for the past few months," she murmured. "My parents want me to marry him."

"Yeah, well, Timothy Dewitt isn't a prince, is he?" Andy replied, lifting an eyebrow.

"You make a very convincing argument, I must admit," Virginia said, leaning into kiss him again.

The kiss was innocent and chaste, and when he tried to deepen it, Virginia pulled away.

"I'll see you later, Andy," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

As Andy turned to leave, he wondered what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

><p>Eric raised his hand, giving two short knocks on Ariel's bedroom door. A moment later the door swung open and the former mermaid herself smiled up at him.<p>

"Eric," she said, "what are you doing here?"

"I apologize for bothering you," he said. "But I wondered if I might have word?"

"Of course," she said, opening the door wider and allowing him to step inside.

"I was thinking," he began, "that we should have a ball here, in your honor."

"That's unnecessary," Ariel replied. "It's a very kind offer, but I'm going to have to decline."

"Don't you like to dance?" he asked. He wasn't sure if mermaids even danced at all. They didn't have legs, after all.

She shook her head. "Not particularly. Besides, the dances where I come from are different than the dances here."

"How different could they be?" he exclaimed. "Come on, Ariel. I insist."

"Fine," she said with a sigh, "but only on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"You teach me how to dance first."

"It would be my pleasure," he replied. He took her hand in his, and lifting to his mouth, pressed a light kiss against her knuckles.

Her face grew red. "Thank you," she muttered.

"So what have you been up to today?" he asked.

"I had a lovely conversation with Andy today. You were right, he's a very nice boy."

"What did you talk about?" Eric asked, opening he didn't sound too curious.

She hesitated. "Your sister," she said after a moment. "It's very tragic what happened to her. I expect you miss her a lot."

"Yes," Eric murmured. "I do."

Eric had, in all honesty, been quite fond of his twin sister. But to say he missed her was a lie. He didn't see the point. Human beings spent an appalling amount of time mourning their dead loved ones. It was such an utter waste of time when there were better things to be doing. When someone was gone, they were gone. There was no use crying over spilled milk, just as there was no use crying over dead family or friends. Neither were coming back. Love, he couldn't help but think, was nothing but a nuisance and a weakness. It turned normally strong, intelligent people into blithering idiots. He's seen what happened to Andy after Mariah had died, and again when Clarissa had ended things between them. He'd been a mess. It was disturbing. Eric could say with complete honesty—though he never actually would—that there was nobody on this earth that he loved. There were people he was fond of, like Andy and Mariah, and people he tolerated, but there was nobody he loved. He would never be weak like the rest of the world.

He would never fall in love.

* * *

><p><strong>I gotta admit, I really like Virginia Ashworth so far, you guys. She's got hustle and I admire that.<strong>

**Also, just a little explanation for the flashback: I was trying to show one of the many reasons that Andy hasn't realized the extent of Eric's dark side. It's obvious that he knows his brother is a bit of a jerk, but he still somewhat trusts him/looks up to him because of things like this flashback. Eric isn't evil to everyone. He was nice to Mariah (at least by his standards) and that's why Andy still thinks he has some good inside him.**

**Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Now place your left hand on my shoulder," Eric instructed.

Ariel reached out, doing as he told her.

The two of them were standing face-to-face in middle of the empty ballroom, their right hands entwined. Eric had apparently meant it when he said that he would teach her how to dance before the ball he was insisting on holding in her honor. She felt her face heat up slightly as he placed his left hand in the small of her back, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric of her dress. It was a ridiculous reaction. Marsious had touched her in far more intimate places. This wasn't something new to her.

"Now we dance," Eric murmured.

"There's no music," Ariel replied.

"That's not true," Eric said. He turned his head toward the door. "Ernest!" he bellowed, startling Ariel.

A small man poked his head through the door. He was young and had wild orange hair that stuck up in all directions. "Y-yes, Your Highness?"

"We're ready for you," Eric said.

The man came bounding through the door, pushing his spectacles up with one hand and clutching a fiddle in his other.

Eric turned back to Ariel, smiling. "You ready to learn how to dance?" he asked.

She nodded uncertainly. She had danced before, but she was sure that it was much different up here on land. In the ocean, they simply held onto each other and whirled around. But up here she had to worry about fancy footwork and making sure she didn't step all over her partner's toes.

"Don't worry," Eric said, as if he could read her mind. "Waltzing is easy. Even Andy can do it and he's been known to trip over air while walking."

* * *

><p>Andy hadn't expected to run into Virginia Ashworth again when he went into town that morning. But sure enough, he did. She was in the small circular park near the middle of town, sitting on bench near the statue of Andy's great grandfather, twirling her pink parasol around in her hand as she leaned in toward Timothy Dewitt and giggled at something he had said. He felt a twinge of jealousy as he stared at the two of them. Perhaps it made him sound like an arrogant prick, but he wasn't used to being ignored. He had kissed Ginny. Why was she still interested in Timothy Dewitt? Timothy was one of Clarissa's neighbors and Andy had met him several times. He didn't seem particularly bright or intelligent or talented. He was rich, yes. But Andy was richer.<p>

Normally Andy might have just walked away, but the whiskey in his system seemed to be urging him toward them. He wandered over, clearing his throat. The lovebirds glanced up. Virginia's face immediately broke into a smile, which Timothy immediately noticed. He glared at Andy, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look threatening.

"Hello, Ginny," Andy said brightly. "Hello, Dewitt."

"Hello, Andy!" Virginia replied enthusiastically. "Would you care to join us?"

Timothy shot her a look of protest, but she ignored him, scooting over so that Andy could sit down between the two of them.

"I had such a nice time walking you home from the dress shop the other day, Ginny," Andy said, giving her his most charming smile. "I hope I can see a lot more of you."

He felt Timothy stiffen beside him, which only made Andy want to piss him off more.

"I really enjoyed kissing you too," he added.

Ginny's eyes widened for a moment, and Andy hoped that he hadn't angered her too. But then she gave him a small smile. "It _was_ quite nice," she murmured.

Timothy let out a strangled-sounding yelp and jumped to his feet, looking wildly back and forth between the two of them. "What the hell were you doing kissing _him_, Ginny? You're courting _me! _Our parents want us to marry!"

Andy smiled smugly. "Sorry, mate. She didn't mention you till _after_ I kissed her."

Timothy turned to look at Virginia. "Is that true?"

"Yes, but—"

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I don't want to hear it, Ginny. I get it, I do. He's a prince. I'm not. You've always been the girl who wants the best. I don't doubt you'll work your way up even higher than Prince Andrew of Reissa someday. I'm sure you'll eventually manage to snag a future king. Hell, maybe you'll find a way to sink your claws into Prince Eric. I hope he and Andy don't mind sharing."

Virginia's eyes widened. She looked like she was holding back tears.

"You need to leave, Dewitt," Andy growled.

"Don't worry, I am," Timothy replied, as he began to back away. "Have fun with her while it lasts, Your Highness. She'll move on soon enough."

"Sorry about that," Andy said, after Timothy had disappeared. "I probably shouldn't have…done that. I obviously ruined things between the two of you."

Virginia shrugged, her gaze focused on the nearby statue. "He was rather dull. I'm actually kind of glad to be rid of him."

Andy scooted closer to her, covering her hand with his own. "I like to think that_ I'm_ not dull," he murmured.

She turned her head, peering up at him from under her eyelashes. "Oh, believe me, Andy, I know you're not."

He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned away at the last minute and his lips brushed against her cheek.

"Andy," she said, nervously picking at the lace on her gloves, "I think perhaps I'm not the kind of girl you want. I'm not going to…you know. I may be a flirt, but that's all I am."

Andy shrugged. He didn't really mind. There was still a part of him that believed that he and Clarissa could still be each other's firsts. It was stupid, but God help him if he still didn't love with all his heart. He just needed something to distract from the pain in his heart and he liked Virginia well enough.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "Of course you're the kind of girl I want."

"Would you like to come to dinner at my house on Sunday?" she asked. "You'll have to meet my parents if you want to court me."

Virginia's father, General Ashworth, was an intimidating man. Despite the fact that he was nearing fifty, he was still in better shape than most other men twenty or thirty years his junior. He was tall and permanently seemed to be scowling. Andy was not looking forward to sitting through dinner with him, especially since he knew how protective the general was of his little girl.

"I've already met them," Andy mumbled. "Are you sure that's necessary?"

She giggled. "Of course it's necessary, Andy. You're going to be courting me."

He shifted nervously, running his hand through his black hair. "I've never had to meet a girl's parents like this before."

She titled her head to the side, looking confused. "Didn't you court Clarissa Dufresne for two years?"

"Well," he said, wondering how she knew about that. "I wouldn't say we courted. It was a…secret relationship. Our parents didn't know. I spent a lot of time sneaking into her bedroom window."

Virginia's eyes widened. "You've been in her bedroom?" she whispered, scandalized. "In her bed?"

"Er, yeah," he replied.

"What is she to do now?" Virginia asked. "Who will marry her now that you aren't going to? No man wants a lady whose virtue is no longer intact."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "I assure you, Ginny, Clarissa's virtue is still very much intact." He wondered if what he was saying was true. There was, after all, still a possibility that she'd slept with his brother.

"Did you love her?" Virginia asked.

Andy nodded. "I still do," he admitted. "Desperately."

Virginia smiled wistfully. "I've never been in love. Is it nice?"

"It's incredible," Andy murmured. "But when they leave you, it hurts worse than anything else."

She leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll see you on Sunday," she said, standing up. "Be there at 7 pm sharp. My father hates tardiness."

Andy groaned. He was not looking forward to his upcoming interrogation from General Ashworth.

* * *

><p>After their dance lesson, Eric suggested that they go take a walk down on the beach. To his delight, Ariel agreed. The more time they spent alone together, the easier and quicker it would be for him to woo her.<p>

It was evening and the sun was setting. He watched as Ariel stared out the horizon, her eyes filled with awe as she took in the pink and orange sky.

"You look like you've never seen a sunset before," Eric teased, knowing full well that she probably hadn't.

Ariel spun around to face him, her eyes wide as if she thought he'd discovered her secret. But when she realized he'd been kidding, her expression relaxed. "Just because I've seen it before doesn't mean I can't admire it," she said. "It's a sad day when you examine at the world around you and no longer see any of its beauty."

"I see plenty of beauty right now," Eric said, focusing his eyes on hers.

She blushed, dropping her gaze. Eric held back a sigh. It was clear she was enamored by him, but she was so damn timid all the time. Any time he gave her any attention, she started blushing and stumbling over her words. He wouldn't be surprised if the girl had never been kissed before, honestly. He really hoped that she livened up once she got to know him and got used to being on land. Because he wasn't sure if he could deal being married to someone who was so goddamn dull.

There was a long pause that neither of them seemed to know how to fill. Eric watched her carefully as she stared out at the water, wondering how he could best go about tearing down her walls. Finally he decided he might as well just ask.

"What makes you happy, Ariel?" he asked softly.

She turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"What is it that you want out of life? I mean, this is our one shot, right? We don't get multiple chances at life. So what is it that you want to spend this one doing?"

He expected her to shrug, to mumble something incoherent while staring down at the ground. But that wasn't what happened.

She seemed to stand up straighter, looking him directly in the eye. "I want to see everything," she responded, a blazing look present in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

This time it was his turn to ask what she meant.

"I want to travel the whole world. I want to go everywhere and see everything. I've never been anywhere before. Only here and my home. I know there's got to be more and I want to experience it. That's why I ran away."

"I can show you the world, Ariel," Eric replied, hoping that the smile he gave her was a sincere-looking one.

Whenever Eric most wanted to come across as likeable and charming, he just thought about what Andy might do in that given situation and tried to imitate that. It usually worked. Andy could probably charm the dress off any woman he desired, but for some reason the idiot chose not to.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh really?" she said. "Well, then let's start now."

"Now?"

She nodded. "I've been here for a week now and all I've seen is your castle and this beach. I want to see the rest of your kingdom, Eric."

"It's getting late, Ariel," he said. "How about I take you up on your request tomorrow morning? We'll spend the day touring the kingdom. I'll show you everything."

"I suppose I can wait until tomorrow," she said, smiling. "After all, I've waited my whole life, haven't I?"

He held out his arm. "C'mon. I'll walk you back to the castle."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ariel couldn't keep the grin off her face as she and Eric headed into town. They took a small, two-person carriage and she watched him with fascination as Eric somehow managed to get the horse to move and stay on track with only the reins in his hands. Horses were beautiful creatures and <em>much<em> bigger than the seahorses she was familiar with. Eric had promised her that he would teach her how to ride one.

It was a warm July morning and the town was bustling with people and activity. Ariel stood in the town square and looked around in delight. There was so much to see! A car full of squawking, feathered animals in cages passed by. Ariel was pretty sure they were called chickens, which was what they had or dinner the first night after she came ashore. She ran over to the fountain in the very center of the town square, watching the kids inside as they splashed around. They looked so happy, so carefree. What would it have been like to grow up in a place like this? She felt Eric place his hand in the small of her back and she spun around to face him.

"Would you like to go to the market?" he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically, grabbing his hand. "Which way?" she asked, looking around wildly.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he pointed down one of the streets. She took off in that direction, pulling him along with her.

The market stretched on for an entire block, with vendors on both sides of the street hawking their wares. There were fresh fruits and vegetables, baked goods, flowers, handmade jewelry, clothing, and so much more. She watched in awe as a man carved a small animal out of wood. The tiny details were so intricate. It didn't seem possible. She felt a little guilty that Eric bought her nearly everything that she stared at for longer than a minute, but she didn't put up too much of a fight. He had the money after all.

They spent the whole day in town and then, as the sun began to set, they got back in the carriage because there was somewhere else he said he simply had to show her before they headed back to the castle. He let her drive for a little while, but eventually snatched the reins back when she nearly sent them flying right off a cliff.

The place he wanted to show her turned out to be a lagoon, surrounded by willow trees and bathed in moonlight.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, as he helped her into a small rowboat.

He began to row and she tilted her head up, gazing at the stars. They filled the sky, too many to even begin to count. And all around them, fireflies glided through the air, almost as if some of the stars had fallen down to earth and learned to fly.

* * *

><p>Eric watched as Ariel reached out of the boat, letting her fingers skim through the water. It had actually been a pretty enjoyable day. He had discovered that Ariel's earlier timid behavior was merely an effect of being in such a strange, new environment. But her true personality had shown through today. She wasn't dull at all. She was actually an exceptionally outgoing, feisty girl. She laughed louder than any girl he'd ever met, clearly not afraid to draw the attention of others. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind either. He could tell she was the kind of girl who would put a man in his place. Although he was glad that he wouldn't be stuck married to someone lifeless and boring, he also hoped that she would eventually learn which one of them was in charge. He was firm in his belief that women were subservient to men. He hoped she didn't end up being too hard to control.<p>

"Did you have fun today?" he asked.

She glanced up from the water, grinning happily. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed. "It was delightful!"

"I'm glad," he replied softly.

They both fell silent, but a strange tension hung in the air as they continued to stare at each other. Eric wondered if he should try to kiss her. He still wasn't sure how much experience she had when it came to the opposite sex. She seemed a bit naïve. He still thought there was a good chance she'd never even been kissed. Perhaps it would be better if he waited a little longer.

To his surprise, Ariel was the one who leaned in instead. Her lips pressed against his and they began to kiss softly. He lifted the oars out of the water and set them inside the boat. He cupped her face in his hands, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. It soon became highly evident that she was more experienced than he had thought. She had most definitely been kissed before. Still, he was surprised when climbed into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. Girls like her weren't usually this forward. He cupped her breast over her dress and she didn't push his hand away. Instead, she let out a low moan as he nipped at her neck.

Suddenly, the boat tipped over and they went tumbling into the water. They both popped up at the same time and he laughed at the shocked expression on her face.

"Oops," she said, giggling.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand. "We should be getting back to the castle."

* * *

><p>"Have you found her, Your Majesty?" Marsious asked, as he sank into a bow. "The one who can help us?"<p>

King Triton nodded, peering down at Marsious from atop his throne. "She has been found."

Marsious straightened up. "Good! When shall I go to her?"

The king shook his head, his face grave. "She has not yet agreed to help us. She…does not trust me."

"But I thought you said that she would help," Marsious said, unable to hide his disappointment.

"I still think she will," the king replied. "She just needs some more convincing."

"But sir, Ariel needs our help as soon as possible."

"You think I don't know that?" the king snapped, silencing Marsious with the furious look in his eyes.

Marsious backed away nervously. "Sorry," he muttered.

King Triton's face softened. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I lost my temper with you when you have done absolutely nothing wrong. You are willing to go to great lengths to save my daughter and for that I am grateful beyond words."

Marsious shrugged. "I love her," he said simply.

"I can see that," said the king. "My frustration had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I cannot save my daughter myself. I must negotiate with someone else while the fate of my youngest daughter and the entire kingdom hangs in the balance. If only my powers worked on land. Then I could go and bring her back myself right now."

"We'll save Ariel and the kingdom," Marsious assured him. "We have no other choice."

* * *

><p><strong>Did you guys catch my Aladdin reference?<strong>

**Don't forget to review!**


	10. Chapter 10

Andy shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze of Virginia's father. It didn't help that that at 6'4", the man towered over him. Although he was still standing in the doorway of the Ashworth's house, Andy already had a feeling that this was going to be one of the most uncomfortable dinners of his life.

"Well," the general said, pulling out a gold pocket watch and glancing at it, "I assume my Ginny told you to be here at 7:00."

"Yes, sir," Andy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping through the door, into the large foyer with a marble floor and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Andy glanced up at it. Perhaps it would fall on him and he wouldn't have to go through with this.

"It's interesting, then, that you've chosen to arrive at our home at 7:30 instead," General Ashworth said, snapping the pocket watch shut.

"Daddy…" Virginia muttered, placing her hand on her father's arm.

She looked beautiful. Her light pink dress tightly hugged her delicate frame and Andy couldn't help but stare. She smiled at him, tilting her head and letting her gaze roam over him. She clearly liked what she saw as much as he did.

"No, darling," the general replied. "I'd like to hear his excuse."

Andy pulled his gaze away from Ginny and turned to look at her father. He fixed Andy with an expression that one usually reserved for looking at shit on the bottom of their shoe. Andy shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, while trying to appear as unaffected as possible. He didn't need General Ashworth thinking he was a coward on top of thinking he was a scoundrel who was trying to corrupt his daughter. Andy knew that rumors of Eric's sexual exploits were well-known around the kingdom. There was no doubt that Ginny's father was under the impression that Andy was no different than his older brother.

"I don't have any excuse, sir," he said. "I lost track of time, is all. I'm very sorry for keeping you and your family waiting. It was absolutely not my intention."

"Well," the general said, "we usually have drinks at 7:00 and then eat at 7:30, but I guess we'll just have to skip straight to dinner."

Andy wiped his sweaty palms against his pants and nodded. How was he supposed to get through this dinner without any alcohol? He could barely get through a regular day without any alcohol. He had a flask in his jacket pocket, but it wasn't like he would be able to pull that out without the general noticing and immediately murdering him. Maybe there would be wine at dinner.

He hated that his dependence had returned. He'd spent the entire previous summer drunk out of his mind after his sister died, but he'd managed to kick the habit when school started. But after Clarissa had broken up with him, he hadn't been able to help himself. Eric would be pissed if he found out. He'd probably lock the door to the wine cellar and hide the key like he did last year. His brother didn't understand. The only thing Eric was addicted to was power.

General Ashworth frowned, stepping past Andy and glancing outside. "Where's everyone else?"

Andy was confused. "Everyone else, sir?"

The general shut the door. "Surely you didn't come here alone, did you? You're a prince. A member of the royal family should never travel alone."

"Well, I took a carriage," Andy replied. "I just had the driver drop me off."

"You don't have a guard or anything?" General Ashworth asked, looking momentarily dumbfounded.

Andy knew that he and Eric didn't always act the way princes were expected to act. They spent too much time wandering off on their own, especially now that they were free of nannies. They were always at the beach or out at sea or in town. Both of them had somewhat of an aversion to people who acted as chaperones or guards. It was strange and people talked, but neither had any interest in traveling with an entourage as their parents did.

Andy shrugged. "Nope."

"Daddy," Virginia said. "Can we just go eat now? Mother's waiting in the dining room."

The general smiled affectionately down at his daughter. "Of course, darling." He turned back to Andy, his face immediately reverting to its normal scowl. "After you," he said, gesturing towards a door to the left.

Andy began to walk across the large foyer, winking at Ginny as he passed. Her lips curved upwards into a playful smile. Behind him, General Ashworth cleared his throat loudly. Andy sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>"Where's Andy?" Ariel asked, as she cut her salmon into pieces at dinner that night. She and Eric were the only two there, he at the head of the table and she directly to his right.<p>

"At General Ashworth's house for dinner," Eric replied. "He's courting the general's daughter, Virginia. They've known each other practically their whole lives and she comes from a very respectable family. They'll make a good match."

She nodded absentmindedly, pushing the pieces of fish around her plate.

"Are you all right, love?" Eric asked. "You've been quiet all day."

She glanced up, noting the concern on his face, and shrugged. "I just miss my family, I guess."

Eric was silent for a moment. "Do you wish to return to them?" he finally asked.

She shook her head. "I don't ever want to go back," she murmured. "I hated it there. This place is more than I could have ever dreamed. But I loved my family, Eric. It pains me to think that I may never see them again."

It had been a hard decision to make, maybe the hardest decision she'd ever have to make. How did one choose between their family and the place they were sure they'd belonged? She was sure that she would be happier as a human here on land than she could ever be as a mermaid undersea, but she missed her father and her sisters even more than she had thought she would. And Marsious… She tried not to think too much about Marsious. It was too bad her dreams never let her forget.

"It must be hard," Eric replied. "I can't claim to understand what you must be going through. I've only lost my sister. You've lost your whole family. But it hurts me to know that you're hurting. It truly does."

The corner of her mouth lifted into a tentative smile. His gaze was so intense that she was sure that if he stared at her long enough, she would melt. A lock of his dark hair had fallen out of place and she reached out, brushing it away from his forehead.

"I'm not very hungry," she muttered.

He cocked his head to the side, his mouth curving up into a mischievous smirk. "Is that right?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

She nodded slowly, wetting her lips with her tongue.

Eric let out a low groan and she blushed, glancing behind her at the footman who stood against the wall. His expression was blank, but she had no doubt he could hear their entire exchange.

"You're teasing me, love," he murmured.

"Maybe," she agreed, doing her best attempt at a seductive smile.

It seemed to work because Eric stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Let's get out of here," he said.

"But you didn't get a chance to finish your salmon," she said, as he led her out of the dining. "I don't want you going hungry on my account."

"I had soup and salad," he replied. "Besides, I can eat something later." He glanced back at her as they reached the front doors of the castle. "You should eat something later too, Ariel. You didn't touch a bite of that fish."

"I told you I wasn't hungry," she said, as he pulled her out into the warm summer night air. Secretly, she couldn't help but feel pleased that he cared enough to notice her eating habits.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as she followed him down the castle steps, toward the ocean.

"The harbor," he replied.

"Are we sailing somewhere?" she asked, confused.

His grip on her hand tightened. "As much as I would love to sail away to some remote island with you, that is sadly not the case tonight."

The harbor was deserted when they reached it. The only sounds she could hear were the lapping of waves and the creaking of the dock beneath their feet. Eric led her to one of the largest ships that was anchored there.

"I thought we weren't sailing anywhere," she said, as he led her up onto the ship.

"We're not. I just wanted to show you this. Besides, it's a good place to be alone," he added, winking at her.

"Is it yours?" she asked, letting go of his hand and walking over the end of the ship that looked out toward the rest of the ocean.

"No," he said, following her. "But I know the captain. He lets me sail it sometimes."

"This is a beautiful boat," she said. "What's her name?"

"She's called "The Lady of the Sea," he replied.

The look he gave her as he said it was strangely knowing and for a moment Ariel almost believed that he knew her secret. But that was ridiculous. He clearly had no recollection of their first meeting. Eric was a sensible man, not the kind of man that believed old sailor's legends.

He took a few steps closer to her until she was backed up against the railing. Lowering his head so that their foreheads were touching, he gave her the same intense look that he'd given her at dinner. "Can I kiss you, Ariel?"

"Yes," she whispered, threading her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and pressing her lips against his.

* * *

><p>"So, Your Highness, I've heard that you attend an all-male boarding school on the other side of the kingdom," General Ashworth said, after they had all sat down to eat.<p>

The general was seated directly across from him, and Andy had a feeling that he was in for a long evening of uncomfortable stares and intense grilling.

"You don't have to call me 'Your Highness'," he replied.

The general smiled tightly. "Do you like your school, Andrew?"

"Andy," he corrected. "Nobody calls me Andrew."

General Ashworth merely stared at him, obviously intent on hearing an answer to his question.

Andy cleared his throat, focusing all his attention on holding the general's gaze. "Er, yeah. I like my school."

"I think you mean _yes_," General Ashworth replied.

Andy shot a panicked look at Ginny, who merely gave him a half-hearted smile before redirecting her attention back to her salad.

"Isn't that what I said?" Andy asked uncertainly.

"You said _yeah,_" the general replied. "I would think that as a prince, you would have a better grasp of how to speak our fine language properly and would not rely so heavily on slang like some common street urchin."

"Robert," Mrs. Ashworth murmured, placing her hand on her husband's arm. "Don't attack the poor boy. He's not one of your soldiers, you know."

"Obviously not," the general replied. "Don't take this the wrong way, son, but I'm afraid you wouldn't last two minutes in the military."

Andy lifted an eyebrow. "Good thing I don't have any military aspirations then."

"Of course you don't," General Ashworth muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any aspirations at all, son?" the general asked. "Because it seems to me that you and that brother of yours are content to spend the rest of your lives pattering around in that castle of yours doing absolutely nothing except bedding as many women as possible. Not that it's a surprise considering how you were raised. I expect your parents never told you no as a child. As princes, the two of your should have had a strict, structured upbringing. Instead, the two of you were permitted to roam about and do as you pleased. I'm not surprised you have no military aspirations because it seems like you have no aspirations at all. What exactly do you do with your life?"

"I go to school!" Andy snapped. "We were just talking about it a few minutes ago!"

This was actually going worse than he had expected. It seemed that the general didn't just dislike Andy because he was trying to court Virginia. It seemed that he also had some kind of predisposed grudge against both Andy and Eric.

"Ah, yes," the general said. "That boarding school of yours. I'm not an idiot, Andrew. I know how young men behave while away at school. Drinking and girls seem to be at the top of most of their priority lists, not classes or grades."

Andy, who had been reaching for his glass of wine, drew his hand back. "Actually—"

"Daddy, Andy's number one in his class," Ginny broke in. "He's very smart."

General Ashworth squinted at Andy. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," Andy replied quietly. He cleared his throat. "I mean_ yes_…sir."

"Well, as impressive as that may be, it's useless unless you plan to put that intelligence and knowledge to use. What do you plan to do after you finish boarding school?"

"Go to college," Andy replied.

"Interesting," the general muttered. "Why is that you plan on attending a university while your brother—who is actually going to have to lead this fine kingdom one day—did not?"

Andy shrugged. "My parents want me to and I don't mind."

He didn't mention that what he really wanted to go to school for was music. His father would never allow it and he didn't think General Ashworth would particularly approve either.

"But as for Eric," Andy continued, "he had no interest in attending college and, well, like you seem to have figured out already, my parents tend to let him do what he wants."

The general stroked his mustache, still staring at Andy. "It doesn't seem right," he said gruffly, "for the king and queen to allow the heir to the throne to do as he pleases. How can I as a citizen trust that he'll be able to lead the kingdom effectively when the time comes if he's never had to shoulder any responsibility in his life, or even completed his education?"

"With all due respect, sir," Andy replied, "I believe my brother will make an excellent king. He may not have gone to college, but he is exceptionally intelligent and has great leadership skills. My father is often away and Eric _always _fills in for him. He meets with my father's advisors and attends Parliament sessions. He recently met with several ambassadors from China and helped work out a new trade agreement. It was a huge success.

"Daddy, don't you think you've interrogated him enough?" Ginny asked before her father could respond to what Andy had told him. "We're supposed to be enjoying a nice dinner together, not reenacting the Spanish Inquisition, for goodness sake."

"Yes, dear," his wife chimed in, "I'm afraid Virginia is quite right. Leave the poor boy alone and eat your dinner. Look, the maid is bringing out the main course now. Let's think of something else to talk about, shall we?"

Andy tried not to audibly sigh with relief.

* * *

><p>Andy sat on the bench in a small grassy area at the end of Virginia's street. After dinner had ended, he'd managed to get a moment with her alone and told her to sneak out when she got a chance and come meet him. They hadn't gotten a chance to actually talk the entire evening.<p>

He toyed with the empty flask in his hands, wishing there was some way it would magically refill itself while he waited. He'd downed the entire thing as soon as he'd gotten out of that house.

"Hi, Andy," he heard her say.

He shoved the flask away as she sat down beside him. "I see you managed to escape," he said, turning to look at her.

"My parents think I'm in in bed," she replied. "Hopefully neither of them thinks to check on me. My father would probably murder you if he found out that I'd snuck out to see you."

"Bet he'd take pleasure in it too," Andy muttered darkly. "He hates me."

Ginny didn't attempt to disagree. "Listen, Andy, I understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you anymore?"

She looked at him like he was stupid. "Because you'll have to deal with my father on a regular basis. Is that really worth it? I know you're still in love with Clarissa Dufresne. I'm just a distraction. I can understand if you don't want to put up with my father and want to find another girl whose parents will be easier to win over."

"Ginny, I like you. I really do. I don't want to stop seeing you." He paused. "It's true that I still love Clarissa though. Does that bother you?"

"No," she said with a shrug. "I just like the idea of dating a prince. I don't care about your personal baggage."

He chuckled. "Are you using me, Virginia?"

She smiled mischievously. "Not any more than you're using me, Andrew."

He liked the idea of that. They were both using each other and they were both completely aware of it. They were just two kids who liked each other having a bit of fun. If this thing between them actually worked out, fine. But if it didn't, neither of them would be heartbroken. She was just his distraction and he was just her ticket to royalty. If Clarissa ever wanted him back, Ginny would understand. And he'd understand if Ginny dumped him for someone even more important and powerful, a future king perhaps.

He cupped her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. When they pulled away, she gazed up at him thoughtfully. "You taste like trouble, Andy."

He grinned cockily. "That's because I am, Ginny."

"I had a feeling," she said with a smile.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. She rested her head against his shoulder. For a while, they simply sat in silence.

"Andy?" she murmured after a while.

"Yeah?"

"You're not the _real _kind of trouble are you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You know how I said that I didn't mind you ruining things between me and Timothy Dewitt because he was dull?"

Andy nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, he was dull most of the time. But…but he also had a really bad temper. You saw a hint of it the other day at the park when he got all mad about us kissing. But that was nothing compared to how he got sometimes. There were a couple times when he…when he…"

She seemed to be having trouble getting the words out. He glanced down at her and noticed that her eyes were glistening with tears.

"What'd he do, love?" he murmured.

"He hit me," she whispered hoarsely.

Andy pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "No, Ginny, I'm not that kind of trouble, I promise. Any man who lays his hand on a woman like that is scum. I swear from the bottom of my heart that I will never, ever do something like that. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

She wiped her nose and smiled up at him. "I knew you were one of the good ones."

* * *

><p>Ariel lay on her back on the deck of the ship, staring up at the stars. They were so bright, so beautiful. She couldn't believe she'd gone her entire life without ever seeing the stars. She was sure that now that she was up here on land, she could look at them forever.<p>

She turned her head, gazing at Eric. He was lying beside her, his eyes focused upwards. She reached out and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. He turned to look at her, his mouth curving up into a smile that lit up his whole face.

It was true she missed her family, more than she could have possibly imagined. She missed knowing that her father was always around to protect her and love her. She missed her oldest sister, Attina, bossing her around with that perpetual look of superiority on her face. She missed Alana's constant chatter about her hair and accessories and skin. She missed how boy-crazy Adella always was. She missed Aquata's dancing, even though she looked like "a spastic piece of kelp" by her own admission. She missed Arista's passion for music. She even missed constantly fighting with Andrina, the sister closest to her in age.

She felt Eric squeeze her hand, almost like he knew what was going on in her head. She smiled gratefully at him.

She didn't know if she would ever see her family again, but she couldn't help but think that perhaps she would be able to start a new one with the boy lying beside her. She knew she hadn't known him very long, but she liked the way he made her feel. Maybe they could be happy together.

* * *

><p><strong>So, there was no Eric POV in this chapter, but let's just say he that he's a very good actor. Also, I feel like I should mention that he and Ariel haven't had sex. I know they kiss and the next time we see them they're both lying down next to each other, but they really were just star-gazing. It'll be clear when they actually do sleep together.<strong>

**Also, there was a lot of Andy in this chapter, but I thought it was a good thing to include all that because I think there was some information about Eric and the king and queen that was revealed with that whole dinner conversation, as well as a look into how the kingdom views the royal family, if that makes sense (I'm really tired and might be rambling incoherently right now, I don't even know).**

**As always, leave me a review telling me what you think. The longer the better! I love rambling reviews, haha!  
><strong>


	11. Chapter 11

"It seems that everything is in order," Madame Armistead said, shuffling through her rather large stack of papers. "I have every reason to believe that tomorrow's ball will be a success."

Madame Armistead was a rather stern looking woman with horn-rimmed glasses and raven colored hair that she pulled back tightly into a bun. Eric had hired her to plan the ball he was insisting on throwing in Ariel's honor. Over the past month and a half she had overseen every little detail, from the food to the music to the gift bags every guest would take home at the end of the night. Ariel wasn't sure why someone like Madame Armistead had decided to make a career out of planning parties and events. She was quite young—probably only in her early twenties—but she dressed like a fifty-year-old schoolmarm and constantly had a pinched expression on her face, as if everything around her was a hindrance that she simply had to deal with to get through the day. Ariel wasn't sure if she'd ever seen her smile.

"That is excellent news, Madame," Eric said, flashing her a smile from across the table.

Ariel stiffened slightly as Madame Armistead blushed and mumbled that he could call her Madeleine if he wanted to. She knew that Eric was big flirt, but she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous every time he sent that charming grin in another woman's direction. She hated watching their reactions too, even though she couldn't really blame them for melting on the spot. He _was_ exceptionally handsome and charming. Hell, he'd even gotten a reaction out of the ice queen sitting across the table from them. But, Eric was _hers. _She didn't like the constant reminders that he could have any girl he wanted.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," a servant said from the doorway. "You have a message."

"Bring it here," Eric said, waving him into the room.

The servant crossed the room, holding out a silver tray with a letter sitting atop it.

"Thank you," Eric said, taking the letter. "You may go."

He broke the seal and skimmed over the letter.

"Well, well, well," he said, tossing it down on the table. "It looks like my parents are finally finished touring Europe and have decided to return home. They'll be arriving the day after tomorrow."

"That's a pity," Ariel said. "They'll miss the ball."

Eric shrugged. "We seem to have different definitions of the word _pity_, darling."

Ariel knew that Eric wasn't very fond of his parents, particularly his father. He resented the fact that the king was never around to do his job. And even though he'd never admit it, she had a feeling he resented the fact that his parents hadn't been around much when he and Andy were children. They let their sons do as they pleased and gave them every material possession they could possibly ask for, but they let nannies do the actual childrearing. As a princess, Ariel knew that it was hard for monarchs to spend time with their children, but her father had always made sure that he was around as much as possible for her and her sisters.

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting them," Ariel said.

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking much more tired than before.

"Eric?" she asked uncertainly.

He shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Madame Armistead stood up as well. "I take it we're done here?"

Eric waved his hand dismissively in her direction, still gazing intently at Ariel. "Yes, thank you. You may go now."

Once she was gone, Ariel turned her attention back to Eric. "I'd love to go somewhere with you, darling," she said, reaching out and cupping his cheek in her hand. "But I told Andy I would go into town with him this afternoon."

At the sound of his brother's name, Eric let out a huff of annoyance and pulled away from her touch.

Ariel smiled. "Jealous?" she cooed.

Eric's gaze dropped to her lips. "Completely," he murmured.

She got to her feet and wrapped her arms around his waist, pouting up at him. "Forgive me?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Always."

It had been a month and half since Eric had taken her to the ship, and their relationship had been growing stronger every day since. She was pretty sure she loved him, though neither of them had said the words. He was just so…_perfect_.

* * *

><p>Eric let out a disgruntled sigh as he stormed out of his father's study, where the meeting with Madeleine Armistead had taken place. He crumpled the letter from his mother into a ball and hurled it to the ground.<p>

He loathed his parents. Especially his father. He _despised_ his father. The stupid fool ran off every chance he got, leaving Eric behind to do any actual work. Hell, Eric might as well be king already. He certainly did everything the king was supposed to do. Not that he minded the work. He'd waited his whole life to be king. It was his destiny, his birthright, the entire reason he existed. But he hated sitting by and doing all the work, while his father got all the glory. He didn't just want to do all the duties of the king. He wanted to _be _theking.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. His parents had no idea that Ariel had been staying at the castle for nearly two months. In fact, they had no idea that Ariel even existed. Neither he nor Andy had mentioned it in any correspondence with their parents (this was largely due to the fact that neither of them actually bothered to correspond to their parents).

He had a bad feeling that his parents weren't going to be happy when they found out that Eric planned to marry Ariel. He hadn't proposed or anything yet, but he knew that she'd say yes when he did. He practically had the stupid girl eating out of the palm of his hand. But the problem was that she was not the girl his parents wanted him to marry. If the king and queen had their way, Eric would marry Princess Ingrid of Arendelle. It would be a great opportunity to expand trade between Reissa and Arendelle and strengthen international relations and blah blah blah. But Princess Ingrid smelled like piss and had an awful overbite. Her main hobby was stitching cat faces onto handkerchiefs and giving them away as gifts. Eric had received one from her for every single one of his last five birthdays. He sometimes used them to mop up coffee that he spilled while eating breakfast in bed.

He knew his parents wouldn't force him to marry Ingrid, but he did know that they wanted him to marry girl with some affluence and money. Ariel was a runaway. Eric knew nothing of her past except that she was a mermaid (and even that was supposed to be a secret). For all he knew, she could be a poor peasant mermaid. And even if she wasn't—even if she was a mermaid princess—she could not provide any evidence of it. She might as well have had no past. She was nobody. She was not the kind of girl a future king married.

His parents were going to be furious when he announced his intention. They would do everything in their power to talk him out of it. But nothing they could say would deter him. He had to marry Ariel. And after he did, the Sea Witch would come and take what he needed from her. He would prove the existence of mermaids and take control of their undersea kingdom. He would have his trophy mermaid wife. And he would go down in history as the most powerful, smartest and bravest monarch that ever was. He would be a legend. Children would fall asleep to stories about him. Songs and epic poems would be written about his accomplishments and statues would be erected in his honor.

He sighed heavily. How was he going to be able to convince his parents to allow Ariel to be his wife? Perhaps he could—

"You look upset, Your Highness," a voice said, pulling Eric from his thoughts.

He opened his eyes. Madeleine Armistead was standing in front of him, peering at him curiously through her horn-rimmed spectacles.

He pulled himself away from the wall. "I thought you left."

"I left my bag in there," she said, gesturing toward the door of the study. "I came back to fetch it."

Eric reached out and opened the door. "Go right ahead, Madame," he said, giving an exaggerated bow and tipping an imaginary hat.

"Thank you, sir," she said, stepping through the doorway and pausing. "You'd make an excellent servant."

He smiled, discreetly looking her up and down. Her entire look screamed stern and tightly-wound. With her glasses and bun and high-collared dress, she reminded him of a teacher he'd had at boarding school. They were both young and attractive, but were for some reason determined to hide it as much as possible. His teacher had been a complete bitch who handed out detentions like candy. She gave him bad grades on his first few tests and essays, but he cornered her after class one day and fixed that. All he had do was whisper a few sweet nothings in her ear and she was practically begging him to take her right there on top of her desk. So he did. He got great grades in her class after that.

He wondered how Madeleine Armistead would be in bed. His teacher had turned into a wild animal. It was always the ones you least expected.

He hadn't been with anyone since Ariel had showed up, which was fine because there'd been a lot to distract him. But suddenly all he could do was picture Madeleine naked and writhing underneath him. He felt his trousers tighten as she emerged from the study, holding her bag. How difficult would it be to seduce her?

He gave her his most charming smile, watching as her face turned red and she shyly smiled back.

It seemed it wouldn't be difficult after all.

* * *

><p>"Watch this!" Andy said, scampering off toward a display of oranges in the town market.<p>

Ariel followed closely behind, watching curiously as he grabbed an orange. The vendor looked up just as Andy began to turn away without paying for it.

"Hey!" the fruit vendor called after them as Andy grabbed Ariel's hand and they took off running down the crowded street, weaving through the crowds of people. "Come back here, you thief!"

They didn't get far before a constable cornered them, tapping his police baton in his hand and glaring menacingly down at them. Ariel let out a squeak of fright, but Andy seemed to be repressing a smirk.

"You think you can take things that don't belong to you without paying, do you?" the constable asked, his voice gruff.

"You mean this?" Andy asked, holding up the orange and blinking innocently.

"Yes, that," the constable replied. "Go back and pay for it or I'll have to arrest you."

"Sir, do you know who I am?" Andy asked, his voice calm.

The constable studied him for a moment and his face went pale. "Your Highness, I…I…"

"Why would I steal an orange?" Andy asked. "I'm a prince. Of course I paid for it. I have the money, after all."

"Yes, but…but that vendor said you'd stolen it."

Andy tilted his head, knitting his eyebrows together in faux indignation. "Who are you going to believe, sir? The prince or some random street vendor? I'm saying that I paid for this orange. My friend here can vouch for me." He nudged her in the side. "Can't you, Ariel?"

"Yes," she said quickly, deciding it was in her best interest to play along.

The constable nodded quickly. It was clear that he was wondering if his job was in danger. "Of course, of course. Would you like me to do something about that lying vendor?"

"There's no need," Andy said. "I'm sure he was just mistaken."

After the constable had left them, Andy turned back in the direction they had come from. Ariel followed after him, hoping to find out some answers to the countless questions currently bouncing around in her head.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, catching up to him.

"That was fun," he replied simply, coming to a stop in front of the fruit vendor. He reached into his pocket and produced a large gold coin, which he tossed into the hands of the stunned vendor. "Forgot to pay earlier," was all he said. "I hope this covers it."

"Andy, that was much more than what the orange actually costs," said Ariel as they turned away, leaving behind a vendor who was still muttering breathless thank-yous.

Andy shrugged. "It was the least I could do for causing him all that distress."

"You stole an orange. I doubt his business would have suffered too much."

"I did not steal an orange. I planned to pay for it all along. I just wanted to have a little fun first. Did you see that constable's face when he realized who he had just threatened with arrest?" He chuckled. "Priceless."

Ariel laughed. "It was quite amusing," she agreed as they began the walk back to the castle.

Over the past month and a half, she and Andy had become good friends. In fact, he was her only friend (other than Eric, who didn't really count as a_ friend_). It was hard to make friends when she spent so much of her time in a castle. Not that she minded. She loved it here. The kingdom was beautiful and she was sure she'd seen every nook and cranny of it. And Eric had promised that they would one day travel all over the world together.

When they arrived back to the castle, they immediately headed to Andy's self-proclaimed "spot." He had showed it to her about a month ago. When he was little, he would always go up to the highest tower in the castle, the one that had a magnificent view of the ocean, to get away from Eric or whatever overbearing nanny the two of them currently had. According to Andy, it had once been used as a prison for criminals while they waited to be beheaded for treason back in medieval times, but now it wasn't used for anything.

They both collapsed on the ground, panting slightly. There were _a lot_ of stairs to walk up to get to this room.

Ariel ran her hand over the cold stone floor. "You should get some furniture up here, Andy."

Andy rolled onto his back and began peeling his orange. "I can't in good conscious ask any of the servants to haul a chair and a divan up all those stairs for me, can I?"

"I suppose not," she said, reaching out to accept the piece of orange wedge he handed her.

"A rug wouldn't hurt though," he murmured. "Don't know why I didn't think of that before. I've only been coming up here for seven years."

She giggled. "You know, you kind of remind me of my friend Marsious," she said without thinking.

He turned to look at her. "You've never talked about your friends and family before."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well…"

"You're quite the mystery, Ariel," Andy remarked. "Now tell me, what is it about me that reminds me of that friend of yours?"

"I don't know. That whole things back there at the market just seemed liked the kind of thing he'd do. And he would have dragged me right along with him. He was trouble. Drove me crazy our whole lives. Of course, I drove him crazy too. Because if anyone knew how to get in more trouble than him, it was me. I've never been one for following the rules. I've always been under the impression that they're meant to be broken. And Marsious and I—well, we broke a lot of them."

"Were you in love with him?" Andy asked.

"Maybe. I haven't figured that out yet. He was in love with me though. Told me so right before I left. He said he'd always loved me."

"Well, don't tell Eric that. He'll get jealous. He's mad about you, you know. I've never seen him so devoted to a single girl for so long."

She smiled. "I quite like Eric too."

"Maybe you'll be my sister someday," Andy murmured, shutting his eyes.

She closed her eyes too. "Maybe," she agreed.

"Are you gonna miss me when go back to school in a couple days, Ariel?" Andy asked a few minutes later.

Ariel opened her eyes and turned her head to the side. Andy's eyes were still closed. "Yes, of course," she replied. "Are you going to miss me?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Perhaps."

"Are you going to see Clarissa before you leave?"

"No," he said, an edge in his voice that hadn't been there before. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Ariel said. "I was just wondering."

"She doesn't want anything to do with me. It'll be much easier to just stay away from her. If she changes her mind, she knows where to find me."

Ariel didn't reply. She didn't know what to say. Instead she just shut her eyes and attempted to make herself as comfortable as possible. Tomorrow there was a ball to attend, which she was slightly dreading, but today there was nothing to do except lay here with her friend.

As she drifted off to sleep, lying there inside the highest point in the entire kingdom of Reissa on a stone floor that countless prisoners had spent there last night on, her thoughts turned to Marsious, just as they often did. She wondered what he was doing at that very moment. Was he thinking about her too?

* * *

><p>"Hey, Marsious, wait up!" Azalea Nimiane called as the two of them swam out of the large coral structure that served as a school.<p>

School had just started back up for the fall and already Marsious was sick of it. It was a good thing he never bothered to show up most of the time.

Azalea was a beautiful mermaid. She had waist-length black hair and sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. She was fun and flirty and had a purple tail and every boy their age was in love with her. She didn't pay any of them any mind though. She was too busy pursuing Marsious. Because Marsious was the only boy who'd never shown much interest in her. It wasn't that he didn't think she was gorgeous. He wasn't _blind_. But it had always been Ariel. For him, there had never been anyone else.

But Ariel was gone…

He had every intention of bringing her back.

But for now she was gone…

Azalea wrapped her arms around his waist. "You wanna get out of here?" she murmured in his ear. "I can help you with your _math homework."_

He and Azalea had kissed once. At a ball in honor of the king's birthday a year ago, long before he and Ariel ever had. Ariel had been mad at him for some reason that he could no longer recall. He had kissed Azalea in some sort of pathetic attempt to make Ariel jealous. He had kind of hoped that she would see it and realize that she had secretly loved him her entire life and finally embrace the fact that they were to be married.

It hadn't worked.

"Well?" Azalea asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"What?"

"Your math homework?" she repeated, looking slightly annoyed. Azalea wasn't the kind of girl who was used to being ignored. "I was thinking I could help you with it."

He shook his head, unhooking her arms from around his waist. "No, actually, I, er….need to go meet with the king about something."

She frowned. "Really? That's the excuse you came up with? Did you really think I would believe that? If you don't want to spend time with me then just say so. Don't be such a coward."

"It's the truth," he muttered.

She cocked her head to the side, a sudden look of realization passing over her face. "It's about Ariel, isn't it? The two of you have some plan to find her and bring her back, don't you?"

He nodded. "It's not going particularly well at the moment. We need some help from someone who's not very keen to help us."

Azalea leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I hope you find her," she murmured. "She's a lucky girl, if she's the girl who owns your heart. Hopefully one day she realizes that."

* * *

><p><strong>Review!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

Ariel stood awkwardly in the corner of the ballroom, clutching a glass of champagne in her hand. She couldn't exactly remember how many glasses she'd had already. Probably one or two too many, especially considering the ball had only been going on for about an hour. It was just that she'd already decided that she hated balls. She'd had a feeling that she would and now she knew for sure. It wasn't that it wasn't an amazing event, because it most certainly was. That Madame Armistead woman had done an excellent job. It was an impeccable party, and considering that it was being held in Ariel's honor, she wished that she could enjoy it. But other than dancing the first dance with her, Eric had been absent from her side the entire night, off talking to all sorts of important looking men that she didn't know and dancing with all sorts of pretty girls she didn't like. She wished he had done a better job introducing her to people before disappearing. She hated that she was stuck in a room full of strangers with no one to talk to.

"Looks like you've had enough to drink tonight, m'dear," Andy said, sidling up to her and grabbing her glass, downing it in one gulp.

She smiled, glad to see a friendly face. "You're one to talk. You've probably drunk double what I have."

"Ahh," he replied, grinning, "tis true, I'm afraid. But I can hold my liquor better than you."

"Where's Virginia?" she asked, glancing around.

He waved his hand vaguely toward the center of the room. "Talking to her father about something. That's why I left her and came over here. I try to avoid conversing with that man at all costs. He _hates _me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Ariel, you sweet naïve child, I can assure you it is."

She rolled her eyes. "Call me a child again, Andrew, and I'll break that champagne glass over your head. You're a month older than me!"

"So," he said, ignoring her empty threat, "have you been standing in this corner by yourself all night?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I danced with Eric and then I had a lovelyconversation with your great-aunt Margaret about her cats."

Andy lifted an eyebrow. "Gee, Ariel, you sound like you're the belle of the ball."

She sighed. "It's been a bit awful," she admitted.

"Well, I would imagine. Great-aunt Margaret smells like cat piss and licorice. I always fake a coughing fit when she goes in for a hug."

"She wasn't that bad," Ariel insisted. "Her stories were interesting."

"Her cat stories are never interesting, Ariel."

_They are if you'd never heard of a cat before two months ago_, she thought to herself.

"So that charming brother of mine just abandoned you in the wild to fend for yourself, did he?"

"I wouldn't exactly put it like that," she replied, exasperated. "It's not like I've been fighting off sharks over here."

"He's an ass," Andy said.

"Well, I'm quite fond of him."

Andy smirked. "Me too, unfortunately. That bastard really knows how to worm his way into the people's hearts, doesn't he?"

Ariel's gaze landed on Eric, who stood surrounded by a group of well-dressed foreign ambassadors. He looked so handsome, especially when he tilted his head back and laughed at something the Egyptian ambassador had said. "Yes," she sighed. "He certainly does."

* * *

><p>Eric forced himself to laugh at the humorless joke the Egyptian ambassador had just told. The bumbling fool couldn't get a punchline right if his life was at stake, but Eric needed to make sure he remained on his good side.<p>

The Welsh ambassador took the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to begin droning on about a dinner party he had hosted recently in that odious monotone voice of his, and Eric let his mind wander. Where had Ariel gotten to? He discreetly glanced around, finally spotting her standing away from the crowd with his brother. He rolled his eyes. This entire ball was being held in her honor. Couldn't she at least make an effort to socialize?

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "I have something very important I need to do. I hope you won't me find me too ill-mannered if I slip away."

"Not at all," the Welsh ambassador said, the rest nodding along in agreement. "Go right ahead, Your Highness."

He smiled at them all graciously before turning away and making his way over to Ariel.

"Hello, beautiful," he whispered in her ear, as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.

She wrenched herself from his grip and spun around to face him, her hands on her hips. "You abandoned me!" she accused, her eyes flashing.

Andy grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and grinned. "I'll see you two lovebirds later," he said as he turned to leave.

"Aww, come on, love. Don't be cross," Eric said, trying his hardest to look sincere. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," she replied. "And what are you going to do to make amends?"

"I have a surprise that I think will quite make up for this horrible transgression," he said. "I hope you like it."

"What?" she asked, the anger in her eyes gone, replaced with a burning curiosity.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom, motioning to the orchestra to stop playing.

"Excuse me, everyone!" he said loudly. "May I everyone's undivided attention for a moment? I have something important to say."

Slowly the room grew quiet and soon enough all eyes were on the young couple.

"What are you doing?" Ariel muttered.

"Ariel," he said, clasping her hands in his own, "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I knew from the moment I first saw you that you were the only girl for me. I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured. "But I don't understand why you needed to say this for the first time in front of all these—"

"Shhh, I'm not finished yet," he said, tightening his grip on her hands. "Ariel, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes widened as a low murmur echoed throughout the ballroom. Out of the corner of his eye, Eric could see Madeleine Armistead gaping at the two of them with a shocked expression on her face. The stupid girl had no doubt had some silly notion in her head that he would leave Ariel because he had fucked her the day before after Ariel had run off somewhere with Andy.

"What?" Ariel whispered. "Eric, are you crazy?"

"Crazy in love with you," he replied softly, trying not to cringe as he said the words. Had he sounded sincere? He hoped so.

Ariel looked hesitant and Eric began to wonder if he had made a mistake. Perhaps he should have waited a month or two longer to ask her. What if she said no? He didn't handle rejection well. What if she left? He nearly shuddered at the thought. She could _not_ leave. He needed her to complete his plan. She was a necessity. She had to say yes.

"I don't understand," he heard a woman in the crowd whisper to her companion. "Why would he want to marry _her_? She's a nobody."

Ariel stiffened for a second, no doubt having heard the woman's unkind words. Then she stood up straighter and smiled at him, the uncertainly in her eyes gone. "Yes," she said. "Yes, Eric, I'll marry you."

He grinned broadly, though not for the reason everyone thought, and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air as the room burst into applause. "I'm so glad, darling!" he said, lowering her back to the ground and kissing her enthusiastically.

He spotted Andy in the crowd, his arm around Virginia Ashworth's waist, frowning slightly and making no effort to clap along with everyone else. For a moment Eric briefly wondered what he was upset about, but then he decided he didn't particularly care. Ariel was going to marry him. Another step in his plan had been completed and he couldn't be more thrilled.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a diamond ring. He had chosen one that wasn't too large or gaudy looking, but was still obviously much more expensive than anything most of the kingdom could afford.

"Oh my," Ariel murmured, as he slipped it on her finger. "Eric, it's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, love," he replied.

She smiled at this, leaning into kiss him again. When they parted, Eric turned to look at Madeleine Armistead.

"I hope you'll consider planning our wedding," he said. "You did such a wonderful job with this ball."

Madeleine smiled tightly. "Of course," she muttered. "It would be an honor."

Ariel continued to smile, completely oblivious to what had gone on between her brand-new fiancé and the party planner the day before.

Eric leaned down, his lips grazing against Ariel's ear. "There's something I need to take care off," he murmured so only she could hear. "I'll be back before you can even miss me."

* * *

><p>Ariel watched as Eric disappeared out the doors of the ballroom, wondering what in the world he had to do that was so urgent he had to leave right after proposing. She crossed her arms across her chest and glanced around. Most of the crowd was still staring at her. She dropped her gaze to the floor, studying the marble tiles as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.<p>

"I'd be careful if I were you, love," a voice murmured in her ear.

She spun around and came face-to-face with Andy.

"Excuse me?" she said, bewildered.

He placed his left hand in the small of her back and grabbed her right hand with his own and suddenly they were dancing. She realized that at some point the orchestra had started playing again.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Dancing with you."

"Obviously," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But why?"

"Because I figured everyone might stop staring at you if were no longer standing alone in the middle of them all like an animal on display in the zoo."

"Thanks," she muttered. "But what did you mean when you said that I should be careful?"

"Eric gets bored easily, Ariel. Especially when it comes to girls. He tires of them and tosses them aside like they're nothing. I don't want that to happen to you."

"Yesterday you said that Eric has never been devoted to a girl for this long before. You said that I might be your sister someday. And now that's going to happen. So what's the matter? Why are you suddenly so concerned?"

Andy sighed. "I don't know. It's just…I didn't expect him to propose so soon, you know? He's never courted anyone for this long before, but it still hasn't been _that_ long. I don't want you two rushing into something that might not work out. I care about both of you. I don't want either of you getting hurt, and right now it seems to me that you'll probably be the one that does."

"Thank you for your concern," she replied. "But I love him and I believe he loves me too. And it's not like we're not getting married tomorrow or anything. We'll have time to get to know each other more before the wedding. This is what I want, Andy."

He studied her for a moment. "Well, I suppose if it's what you want, there's nothing I can say that will stop you. But are you sure you love him? You've only known him for two months. I think—"

"Andy," she said, cutting him off, "how long after meeting Clarissa did you know that you love her?"

He stopped dancing, nearly causing her to trip over his feet. His face was serious as he replied, "I knew I loved her after our very first conversation. I was only fourteen years old but I would have married her on the spot if she'd asked."

"See?" Ariel said. "Two months isn't such a short amount of time compared to that, is it?"

Andy didn't answer her. "We should probably either start dancing again or move out of the way," he muttered, glancing around. "We're getting some dirty looks."

"Oh," she said, caught off guard by the change in conversation. "Er, okay. We can keep dancing, I guess."

As they started to dance again, Ariel began to mull over everything Andy had just said. She hadn't wanted to admit it to him, but there were parts of what he said that made sense. Could she trust that Eric wouldn't tire of her? Did she really want to spend the rest of her life with a boy she'd only known a couple months? She'd known Marsious her whole life and the idea of marrying him had repulsed her up until very recently. Eric's proposal had completely caught her off guard. Then she's heard that nasty woman say that it made no sense that Eric would want to marry her because she was a nobody and her "yes" had kind of just slipped out as a response, which probably wasn't the best reason to accept somebody's proposal of marriage.

But honestly, she had fallen in love with Eric over the past couple months she'd spent with him. She had a feeling that he was the one she'd marry, so perhaps this _had_ been the right decision. She had left her ocean home because she wanted to experience the world and Eric had promised that he'd show it to her.

"Love is hard," she muttered.

"You don't have to tell me," Andy said with a sigh.

* * *

><p>"This had better be really fucking important!" Eric hissed, as he stormed into his father's office and slammed the door shut.<p>

The Earl of Astrea smirked up at Eric from where he was lounging lazily in the king's leather chair behind the large mahogany desk.

"Eric," he drawled, "I see you got my note."

"You mean this!" Eric snapped, waving the piece of paper around in the air. "This note telling me to meet you in my father's office at 10 pm on the night of the ball? Yes, I got it."

"You sound upset."

"I am upset, Charles! I just proposed to Ariel and then I had to run out on her without explanation because of a mysterious note from some idiot I haven't seen in nearly two months. What could possibly have been so urgent? Because if this is merely some scheme to get me into bed, I am turning around and leaving. Go fuck your gardener. Close your eyes and think of a man so you get it up long enough to fuck your wife. Go fuck anyone, I don't care. But I have things I need to do and you are not one of them."

"That's not what this is about," the earl replied, sitting up straighter. "This is about our deal. I wanted to make sure you haven't forgotten about it. Because I was talking Lord Baldwin and he seemed to think that he was getting the position instead."

"Our deal," Eric repeated flatly.

"You know," Charles said, standing up and walking around the desk, "the deal where you make me your top advisor after you become king. The person you go to for help when making all your most important political decisions, basically your second-in-command."

Eric sighed. He couldn't keep track of all the ridiculous bargains and agreements he constantly had to make to get things done. "Remind me what you offered me in return for that?"

"I already completed my end of the bargain," Charles said. "Surely you haven't forgotten?"

Not wanting to admit that he had, Eric merely nodded. "Right, right. Of course. I remember now."

"Good. Because I told Lord Baldwin that he was crazy. You would never—"

"Can we got for a walk and talk about this further?" Eric interrupted. "I need some air," he added, tugging at the collar of his shirt for emphasis.

"Of course," the earl agreed.

"Excellent," Eric said, gesturing toward the door. "After you."

He followed Charles out into the humid night air. They came to a stop near the edge of the cliffs that the castle was built into. There was perfect view of the beach and the ocean below.

"I've always loved this view," the earl murmured. "It's so beautiful."

"Yes," Eric agreed. "It certainly is. But listen, Charles, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" the earl asked, redirecting his gaze to Eric.

"Lord Baldwin was correct. I'm going to make him my top advisor when I become king. He's older than you and has much more experience with political matters. He's been one of my father's most valued advisors for years. I believe he is the most qualified for the job and that's the most important thing."

"But what about our deal?" Charles asked, his eyes flashing. "You promised!"

"In all honesty, I had forgotten all about that," Eric answered calmly.

"This is unacceptable!" the earl snarled. "I'm not going to let you get away with this!"

Eric lifted an eyebrow. "Oh really, what are you going to do to stop me?"

"Do you realize what I have on you? If I go the press and tell them about all your little flings with other men, you'll be ruined. The kingdom will turn against you faster than you can possibly imagine. Nobody wants a homosexual king."

"I'm not a homosexual!" Eric snapped. "Besides, wouldn't you just be ruining your own reputation right along with mine by selling those stories? Out of the few men I've been with, you were the only one I slept with more than once."

"Nobody will have to know I was involved. I have plenty of people I can pay off to claim they've seen you with various men over the past couple years; there doesn't have to be any mention of me."

"I can refute all that easily! No one will believe that shit."

"That's not true and you know it," the earl replied. "There _will_ be people who believe it. And you're reputation will always be damaged, no matter how much evidence you try to offer up to prove otherwise. To the people of this kingdom, you'll be the cock-sucking king forever."

Eric felt slight dizzy. Was anything the earl saying legitimate? Could he really ruin Eric's reputation so easily? Surely not. But then again, what if he could?

He remembered hearing the story of Sodom and Gomorrah back when he had to go to church with his parents every Sunday. He remembered the reverend angrily banging his fist on the podium during his sermons, shouting until his face turned red and the vein in his forehead began to throb about how any man who committed sexual acts with another man would burn in hell for all of eternity for his sins. He didn't believe any of that nonsense, of course, but it had certainly been one of the reasons that he had always been extremely careful to hide any same-sex encounter he had. It was just not accepted here. He knew that. He couldn't allow anyone to find out. Charles had to be stopped. But how?

He could give him the position, of course. But honestly, he just didn't want to. Charles was young, only a few years older than himself. He wasn't experienced enough. Of course, depending on how long it took for his father to die, that could change by the time Eric actually became king. However, he was pretty sure that Lord Baldwin would always be the better choice. Besides, Baldwin was a powerful man and Eric had no doubt that he too would be very angry if Eric went back on their agreement. It was possible he could ruin his reputation even more than Charles could.

This was so frustrating. Why did this have to be happening now? Right after he made such progress with Ariel, who he very much needed to get back to as soon as possible. She was going to be so angry with him and he honestly couldn't even blame her. He'd run out immediately after proposing. This whole thing was ridiculous. He could not let Charles get the best of him. If only there was some way to just get rid of him and end this whole thing.

He glanced out over the edge of the cliff, at the beach below with the waves crashing onto the shore.

_If only there was some way to just get rid of him…_

He froze for a moment, and then glanced over at Charles. He was still glaring at Eric, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for his response.

It happened so suddenly that Eric could hardly even believe he had done it. It was if by instinct that he reached out, with both hands, and shoved Charles as hard as he could. And Charles, taken completely off guard, had flailed for a moment, his eyes wide with fright, before losing his balance and tumbling over the edge off the cliff. A moment later, Eric heard a thump and then only the sound of the ocean and nothing else.

He peered over the edge. Far below, he could see Charles, neck bent at a strange angle, lying crumpled in the sand.

Minutes later, Eric was down at the beach, kneeling down beside the body. Charles was dead, there was absolutely no doubt about that. Eric glanced around wildly, but saw no one. There was nobody around who could pin this on him. For all anyone could know, Charles had simply fallen off that cliff accidently. He glanced back down at the body, feeling slightly ill. It was so strange-looking, so unnatural.

He had seen a dead body only once before, his twin sister Mariah's. He still remembered vividly waking up and discovering that she was no longer breathing. He remembering shuddering when he grabbed her wrist to check her pulse and discovering she was cold as ice. When he felt no sign of a heartbeat, he had started to shake her as hard as he could, as if he would somehow be able to shake her back to life. Her death itself should not have been a surprise. She had been extremely ill, both physically and mentally, for all their lives. But he had never thought that one day he'd wake up to discover her lying dead beside him. It was extremely disconcerting. How long had she been dead? How long had he been sleeping next to a dead body?

Eric pulled himself out of his thoughts and stood up. He needed to get out of here.

As he headed back to the castle, he couldn't help but grin slightly. Charles was dead. And all his threats had died with him. He was a thorn in Eric's side no longer.

* * *

><p><strong>So, this was a pretty crazy chapter. Ariel and Eric are now engaged (which, by the way, is supposed to seem kind of rushed). And Eric is now not only a rapist, but a murderer. If it wasn't already completely obvious that he's a total psychopath, it should be now.<strong>

**Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

From over Andy's shoulder, Ariel caught sight of Eric slipping back into the ballroom. He looked around wildly, his gaze finally landing on the spot in the middle of the floor where his brother and fiancée were dancing. He pushed through the crowd until he reached them, his hand immediately encircling her arm and pulling her away from Andy.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered, his hand still gripping her arm as he turned away.

"Eric, stop!" she exclaimed, yanking herself from his grip and coming to a stop.

He turned, a look of annoyance flashing across his face. "What?"

Andy muttered something about needing to find Virginia and slipped away.

"Where did you go?" Ariel asked. "You proposed to me and then disappeared, Eric. I deserve some kind of explanation, don't you think?"

"Yes, of course you do," he agreed, running his fingers through his dark hair. His face was flushed and he seemed more fidgety than usual as he glanced around the room with shifty eyes, not meeting her gaze.

"Eric, are you all right?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he mumbled. "I was just meeting with someone."

"Who?"

"One of my father's advisors," he said. "You don't know him."

"Why'd you need to meet tonight? During the ball? That seems unnecessary."

"I agree. But he insisted."

She squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was telling her the truth. He finally met her gaze and smiled.

"Come on," he murmured, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. "Let's get out of here."

She allowed him to lead her away from the crowd, but then came to stop. "Why?" she asked. "The ball's still going on."

"I know, but I'm tired. It's been a long day. I want to go to bed."

"Then go," she said.

"I want you to come with me," he said softly.

Her eyes widened. "Eric, be sensible!" she hissed. "We're engaged, not married. I can't…I can't go to bed with you." She lowered her voice at the last part, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.

"Why not?" he murmured, his fingers brushing against the diamond on her finger. "Don't you want to?"

"It doesn't matter if I do or not," she replied. "It simply isn't done."

She remembered her sister Adella coming home a few years ago, crying. The boy she liked had rejected her for some mermaid named Coral.

"I heard they had sex!" she had wailed loudly, throwing herself down on her bed dramatically as Ariel and the rest of her sisters looked on warily. "No wonder he chose her over me!"

"Adella," their eldest sister Attina had said calmly, "this Coral girl had ruined herself. No one will want to marry her if word gets out that she is no longer virtuous. Take comfort in that."

Ariel remembered cringing at her sister's harsh words. It seemed so unfair that a girl's reputation could be so easily ruined while boys were "just being boys."

"I don't want to ruin my reputation," she told Eric quietly. "I can't sleep with you before the wedding."

Eric stroked the skin on her upper arm, making her shiver. "I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do," he murmured. "But if you're reputation is the only reason you're saying no, then I wish you'd reconsider. I'm going to marry you, Ariel, regardless of the status of your virginity on our wedding night. After all, I could hardly think badly of you if I was the one you were intimate with."

She stared at him, trying to figure out what she really wanted. He smiled at her and for a moment she lost her train of thought. He was so beautiful. And she was going to be his wife.

She was going to be his wife…

It was as if the reality of the situation was finally sinking in.

She was going to be his wife!

Was this what she really wanted?

She thought back to the night when he had whisked her away to that ship and they had laid together and watched the stars. She'd felt so comfortable with him, like being there with him was exactly where she was supposed to be, like she could tell him anything and he'd listen and understand.

Her gaze dropped to the ring on her finger, and she fiddled with it as she examined it more closely. "It's a very beautiful ring, Eric," she murmured.

His mouth twitched upwards into a smile. "You already mentioned that, Ariel."

"Well, I figured I'd say it again."

"I had specifically designed with you in mind, so I'm very glad you like it."

"I hope it cost you a lot of money," she teased.

His smile grew wider. "Oh, it did. Tons and tons. I practically bankrupted the entire kingdom just buying you that ring."

She reached up, placing her hand on the back of his neck. "Good," she murmured, bringing his face down to hers.

When the kiss grew more heated, Ariel pulled away. "Eric," she whispered.

"What?" he murmured, gazing down at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Take me to bed."

* * *

><p>Ariel didn't feel particularly self-conscious as Eric stood behind her, unbuttoning her fancy ball gown and letting it fall to the floor and pool around her feet. She had lived her entire life in a world where nudity was much more accepted than it was here. It had been strange coming here where being covered up was a necessity and the human form was considered something to be ashamed of. When she had lived underwater, the only thing clothing she wore was a brassiere made of seashells, the same things all the other mermaids wore. And the thing about seashell brassieres was that they tended to fall off every so often. But it had never occurred to her to be embarrassed by it. It was just something that happened.<p>

He freed her from her corset and she finally felt like she could breathe again. Corsets were one of the things about living on land that she still couldn't wrap her head around. Why in the world did they exist? She absolutely refused to wear them, but had made an exception for this stupid ball.

Soon she was entirely naked. She took a deep breath and turned around to face her fiancé. His gaze raked over her body, desire in his eyes.

"You're perfect," he whispered hoarsely and a shiver ran up her spine.

He picked her up and carried her over to his bed.

"Now this doesn't seem fair," she muttered, running her hands over his muscular chest. "You're still completely dressed except for your shirt and I'm entirely naked."

"We'll just have to rectify that, won't we?" he asked, trailing kisses down her neck.

"Yes," she agreed, her hands moving to the button on his trousers. "We will."

After all his clothes had been discarded on the floor, he rolled over and pinned her to the bed, his mouth moving from her breast to her mouth as one of his hands slipped between her legs. She moaned, deepening the kiss.

Eric pulled away, staring down at her. "Ariel, are you sure?" he asked breathlessly. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She closed her eyes. _Was_ this what she wanted? She loved Eric, she was sure of that, but was that enough? She was only sixteen and they weren't even married yet.

And then there was Marsious…

Why did her thoughts always return to Marsious?

He was, after all, _just a boy_. A boy she'd known her whole life. A boy who had always annoyed her beyond belief. A boy who had been her best friend, although she hadn't really realized it at the time. A boy she was supposed to marry. A boy who had said he loved her. A boy she might have loved right back.

She remembered waking up the morning after she had gone to visit Ursula and discovered that she was not there. Marsious had been lying beside her, still asleep. For a second she had panicked, thinking she had done something stupid, something her sister would call "giving away her precious gift." But then she had remembered that all they had done was stay up late kissing and talking and, relieved, she had fallen back asleep. When she awoke again, Marsious was already awake, watching her.

"What are you looking at?" she had murmured, stretching.

"You," he replied softly. "You're beautiful when you're sleeping."

"Oh really?"

"And I was just thinking how nice it would be to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life."

Ariel had a lot of moments during the last few days before she left for good, after she had finally realized she had feelings for Marsious, when she had her doubts about leaving, when she considered staying with him. But in that particular moment, she had been more tempted to tell him she'd stay forever than she had at any other time. Because she had to admit she agreed with him. How very nice it would be to wake up next to the same person every morning for the rest of your life. But she had repressed the urge to stay and had promised herself she would not give up her dreams for him.

The next morning, she had once again woken up beside him, and he had told her that he'd always loved her and once again the temptation to stay had been strong, but she'd gone to Ursula instead and gotten her legs.

Now she was here.

And Marsious wasn't.

He hadn't loved her enough to chase after her, to become human and come up to land with her.

And she hadn't loved him enough to stay.

He had probably already moved on. He'd probably forgotten all about her. Azalea Nimiane had probably already sunk her claws into him. Ariel _despised_ Azalea and her stupid purple tail. Why did boys love purple tails so much?

"Ariel," Eric murmured. "Did you fall asleep on me or something?"

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Eric, I want you to make love to me."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

Marsious wasn't here. She would probably never see him again. It was time to forget him, once and for all, just as he most likely had with her.

"I am positive," she said firmly.

What happened next hurt more than she had expected, but felt strangely wonderful all the same. And afterwards, as she watched Eric sleeping beside her, she decided that it was something that she could definitely get used to. Waking up next to him every morning for the rest of her life could very possibly make her very, very happy.

* * *

><p>Eric woke up to the sound of his mother knocking on his bedroom door and calling his name. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and groggily trying to figure out what was happening.<p>

"Eric, come open the door!" she called, her voice as shrill and grating as he remembered.

"Shit," he muttered, reaching over and shaking Ariel frantically. He had forgotten his parents were coming back today.

Ariel's eye popped open. "Eric, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Shhh," he hissed, covering her mouth with his hand.

"That's it," his mother announced. "I'm just going to come in."

"Get under the covers," Eric whispered as quietly as possible. "And do not move. My mother's here."

Ariel's eyes widened, and she did as she was told. He quickly arranged some pillows on top of her, praying that it just looked like a lump in the covers and that his mother would not be suspicious.

"Come in, Mother," he called.

The door swung open and there, in all her glory, stood Queen Isabella. She looked the same as she always did, with her long black hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head and severe, angular features that made her look like she was displeased with everything around her (probably because she usually was).

She strode across the room, coming to a stop in front of his bed. "Eric, darling," she said. "What are you still doing in bed? Didn't you get my note telling you that your father and I would be back this morning?"

"Yes, Mother," he replied. "I just forgot."

"Your brother was at the front doors with the servants, waiting to greet us."

Eric very nearly replied by saying how impressive that was, considering the amount Andy had to drink the night before. Any normal human being would still be in bed with a massive hangover. But instead he gave her a strained smile. "Sorry, Mother."

"Get dressed and come down to breakfast as fast as you can. Your father and brother are already eating."

She turned to go, but stopped in the doorway and turned back around. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said. "I don't suppose you've heard the news about the Earl of Astrea?"

Eric shook his head, trying to keep his voice steady as he said, "No, I haven't. What happened?

"They found his body on the beach. Apparently he fell off one of the cliffs." She lowered her voice. "They think there's a possibility that he jumped. Isn't that awful?"

"Awful," he echoed, relieved to hear that there were no rumors swirling that it had been a murder.

As soon his mother was gone, Ariel popped out from under the covers.

"Get back to your room and get dressed," Eric instructed. "Meet me back here when you're finished. We'll go down to breakfast together."

Ariel nodded and stood up, stretching her naked body. Eric's gaze roamed over appreciatively. He had been pleased to discover the night before that she had an excellent body. He had decided he was quite fond of her breasts. They weren't particularly large, but they weren't small either. They were the perfect size.

"Eric," she said, her face going pale. "How am I going to get back to my bedroom? I only have my ball gown from last night and I can't very well go out into the hallway wearing that. What if a servant sees me?"

"Don't worry," he said, standing up and walking over to his wardrobe. He pulled out one of Ariel's nightgowns. "I thought to bring this in here before the ball, just in case, you know…"

She snatched it from him and smiled. "So you were planning to get me into bed with you the entire night, were you?" she teased.

"Maybe," he replied. "Now get outta here before my mother comes looking for me."

She pulled on the nightgown and leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he forced himself to say.

He _hated _saying those words. Love for the weak and he was _not _weak.

* * *

><p>Eric paused right outside the doorway and grabbed Ariel's hand.<p>

"What's wrong?" she whispered, perhaps sensing that he looked nervous.

"I probably should have mentioned this before," he mumbled, "but I haven't told my parents about you."

Her eyes grew wide. "What?" she hissed. "Do you mean they don't even know I've been living here over the past couple months?"

He nodded. "That's exactly what I mean, yes."

She looked horrified. "Eric, we're engaged!"

"Yes, I know that."

"We're engaged and your parents don't even know I exist!"

"It's fine," he insisted, even though it really wasn't. "Just let me do all the talking."

"But do you think they'll be okay with our engagement?" she asked, nervously fingering her ring.

He hesitated, knowing for a fact that they wouldn't. "Let's just go in there and get this over with," he finally said, pulling her into the room.

Both his parents and Andy glanced up at the same time. But unlike Andy, who merely nodded at them and returned to his breakfast, his parents both stared at Ariel, confusion on their faces.

"Eric, darling, who is this?" his mother asked sharply, tearing her gaze from Ariel and redirecting it towards her son.

"Mother, Father," he said, "This is Ariel. My fiancée."

His mother's mouth dropped open and the glass she had been holding slipped from her hand, shattering into pieces as it hit the tile floor. His father began to choke on his eggs. Andy reached over, giving him a whack on the back, and he seemed to recover.

"Whatever do you mean?" his mother hissed. "Who is she? What is she doing here?

"Damn," Andy spoke up before Eric could respond. "You mean you haven't told them anything about Ariel? You're stupider than you look, Eric."

"Shut up, Andy!" he snarled.

"Eric!" his mother snapped. "Ignore your brother and give your father and me some answers!"

He and Ariel were still standing in the doorway of the dining room, and Eric decided it would be best if they remained there while he explained things. His mother looked ready to stab Ariel in the neck with her fork.

"Ariel ran away from home a couple months ago," he began. "I found her on the beach and offered to let her stay in the castle until she figured things out. I figured she would eventually decide to return home. But we quickly grew fond of each other and eventually that fondness turned into love. I proposed to her last night at the ball," he explained. "We have been staying in separate rooms, of course," he added as an afterthought, not mentioning the previous night.

"Where did she come from?" his mother asked, her face rapidly turning redder by the second.

Eric shrugged. "She hasn't told me much about her past, Mother. She had a traumatic childhood."

The queen turned to look at Ariel. "Well?" she barked. "Where did you come from?"

"Nowhere of consequence," Ariel replied, her voice shaking as she gripped Eric's hand tighter.

"And your parents? Are they of consequence?"

Ariel shook her head. "No, Your Majesty."

The queen looked livid.

"Eric, this is unacceptable," his father said, speaking for the first time. "You cannot marry this girl."

"I can do as I please, Father," Eric hissed.

"No, I will not allow it!" the king snarled, "You will marry someone of fine breeding, someone who will benefit the kingdom. Princess Ingrid, for example. A marriage between the two of you will foster relations between Reissa and Arendelle."

"I am not marrying Princess Ingrid. I am marrying Ariel. I don't give a damn what you say. This is non-negotiable."

He was not going to let his father ruin things for him. Ariel was the key to everything he had ever dreamed of since discovering mermaids did indeed exist. He was not giving her up, at least not before he had achieved all that he had set out to do.

"Eric, look at her!" his mother exclaimed. "She is not queen material. She is not even wearing a corset. And her hair, look at her hair!"

Eric glanced over at Ariel, who looked as if she was going to be sick. It was true that she was not wearing a corset, but she hardly needed one. She was a very thin girl. And he had to admit that he quite liked her hair. It was fiery and untamed and hung nearly to her waist.

"She doesn't need a corset and I happen to like her hair," he told his mother truthfully.

"Princesses always wear corsets," his mother replied. "Queens always wear corsets."

"Oh, for God's sake," Andy said. "You two should give Ariel a chance. She'll grow on you, I promise. She's a sweet girl."

"She's clearly a gold-digging slut who wants to be queen!" the queen hissed. "I cannot believe this is happening."

"Isabella, that's enough," the king said quietly. "Let's just east breakfast. We'll finish discussing this at a later time."

He motioned for Eric and Ariel to come sit.

"Thank you, Father," Eric muttered, as he took a seat.

"I didn't do this for you," the king replied. "I did it for my own mental health. I couldn't take all the shouting for a minute longer. I have not given you my blessing and I will not give you my blessing. Make no mistake of that."

Eric's eyes narrowed. He had forgotten just how much he hated his father. If only the old fool would hurry up and die already.

As he took a bite of bacon, he remembered how easy it had been to shove Charles off that cliff. He glanced back up at his father. Wouldn't it be nice if he could get rid of him just as easily? Then he would be king and could do as he pleased. He could marry Ariel without anyone getting in his way.

So as his parents and Andy discussed what time Andy would be returning to school the next day, Eric planned…

* * *

><p><strong>I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. Every time I'd sit down to write, I'd end up typing a few sentences and then give up. But I promised myself I'd finish it tonight, so here it is. I apologize if it's horrible. It's nearly 3 am and I'm slightly delirious.<strong>

**Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

Andy could not get out of the castle fast enough after breakfast. His parents had come roaring back into his and Eric's lives in the same manner they always did, by making a huge scene. When he and Eric were children, they had been spoiled immensely. Their parents had given them everything, had let them do as they pleased. Any discipline the two of them had received when they were young had come from the nannies. But even that hadn't always been effective. When a nanny was too strict, Eric almost always managed to get her sacked.

Now after years of letting their two sons do as whatever they pleased, the king and queen seemed perplexed that they suddenly weren't willing to blindly obey their every command. Did they really expect Eric, who hadn't heard the word no as a child nearly enough, not to marry exactly who he wanted? Andy had no doubt that his brother would find a way to get what he wanted. Eric most assuredly would marry Ariel if he decided that she was worth fighting for.

Andy wished he had the gall to tell his parents no like Eric did. If he did, then he wouldn't be stuck going to college after he graduated from his boarding school to study whatever his father instructed him to. He wanted to study music. He wanted to play piano for the rest of his life. But he knew the king would never allow it.

Pushing thoughts of his impossible dreams from his mind, Andy knocked on Virginia's front door. He was leaving early the next morning to return to school and was there to say goodbye. The butler opened the door.

"Is Virginia home?" Andy asked.

"She is out back in the garden, Your Highness," the butler responded. "I shall escort you to her, if you desire."

"Thank you, but no," Andy said. "I think I can manage to find my way back there on my own."

"Very well, sir," the butler said, his lip curling very slightly in distaste, no doubt having noticed the sarcasm in Andy's tone.

"I'll just walk around the house," Andy said, backing out the doorway.

The butler shut the door and Andy trudged around the Ashworth's house, into the backyard. Virginia was perched on a railing inside the large white gazebo. Timothy Dewitt, the boy Ginny had confessed had more than once lost his temper and hit her, was leaned up against the railing beside her, whispering something in her ear and stroking her arm.

If it had been any other boy, Andy probably would have rolled his eyes and left. Ginny was a natural flirt and neither of them were serious enough about the other to get very jealous about encounters with the opposite sex. But Andy _did_ care enough about Ginny to want to make sure that the piece of shit who had hit her never went anywhere near her again.

He strolled across the lawn, trying to keep his temper under control as he stepped inside the gazebo.

"Hello, Ginny," he said loudly.

She glanced up, her face paling when she saw who he was. "Andy," she muttered, shoving Timothy away. "I didn't know you were coming to see me today."

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Did you forget?"

"Oh," she murmured. "Yes, of course. I guess it must have slipped my mind."

"Too distracted by Dewitt to remember?" he asked icily.

"You're sounding a bit possessive there, Your Highness," Timothy drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking as he leaned back against the railing. "Worried she'll leave you and fall back into my arms?"

Andy's eyes narrowed and he had to clench his fists at his side to keep from smashing the asshole's face in. "I'm not possessive, Dewitt. If Ginny's going to leave me I'd just rather it be for someone who isn't a piece of human _filth_."

"Andy," Ginny whimpered. "Don't."

"You need to leave, Dewitt," Andy said. "Now."

"What if I don't want to?"

"If you know what's good for you, you will get the hell out of here_. Right. Now."_

"You threatening me, Your Highness?" Timothy asked, still looking far too smug for Andy's tastes.

Andy looked Timothy up and down, attempting to assess how strong he might be. He was a couple inches shorter than Andy, but filled out his shirt well enough. But Andy had never lost a fight in his life, not unless you counted the fights between him and Eric when they were little, back when Andy was smaller than him.

"Yes," Andy said through gritted teeth. "I am."

Timothy let out a short laugh. "C'mon, mate. It's not that serious."

Andy's fist smashed into Timothy's face before he had even completely registered what he was doing. Timothy let out a howl of pain, his hands flying up to his nose, which Andy was fairly sure he'd broken.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, wincing in pain as he drew his hand back and noticed the blood on his fingers.

"Get the hell out of here before I give you a black eye to match that broken nose," Andy snarled.

"You're not going to get away with this," Timothy said, as he backed out of the gazebo.

"Of course I am," Andy replied. "I'm a fucking prince."

"Andy," Ginny murmured, speaking for the first time in what seemed like ages. "Calm down."

"I hope you and your prince are very happy together, Ginny!" Timothy called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the side of the house, his voice muffled by his hands, which remained firmly clasped over his bleeding nose.

"That was a bit uncalled for, don't you think?" Ginny murmured, hopping off the railing and coming to stand by Andy. "You didn't have to hit him."

"Why?" Andy snapped. "He's allowed to hit you, but I can't hit him? Seems a bit unfair. Why the hell are you even letting him anywhere near you?"

She shrugged, glancing down at her shoes. "He said he was sorry. He said he still wanted to marry me."

She looked smaller than she usually did, Andy noticed, frailer somehow. Like a strong breeze could knock her right over. He reached out and gently brushed away a lone tear that had begun its descent down her pale cheek.

"Are you going to do it?" he asked softly. "Marry him, I mean."

She shrugged. "It's a good match."

"He's an ass. You deserve better."

She shrugged half-heartedly. "Maybe."

He wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and pulled her in close. "Don't marry him, Ginny. You _do _deserve better. Believe me."

"I do, huh?" she asked, as he buried his face in her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her soft skin. "Like who—you? The boy who'll go running back to Clarissa Dufresne as soon as she'll have him?"

"You've always known that about me," he said, pulling his head back to look her in the eye. "You know I'll always choose her and I know you'll always choose someone richer and more powerful over me. Or, hell, maybe you'll even find someone you love and leave me behind without a second glance. If that happens, I can assure you I will be thrilled on your behalf. I care about you a lot, Ginny. But Timothy Dewitt isn't richer than me, or more powerful. And you sure as hell don't love him. So don't choose him. Promise me."

She didn't promise him, he noticed. Instead she studied him thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you think she'll ever want you back?"

"Who? Clarissa?"

"Who else?"

He shrugged irritably. "I don't want to talk about her anymore."

"Why? You love her."

"She still hurt me. Badly. I have no idea if she'll ever want me again. I have no idea if she ever wanted me in the first place. Sometimes I wonder if everything she ever told me was a lie."

Ginny was silent for a long time. "I'll miss you, I think," she finally said, staring out over the garden as she spoke.

He reached out, twirling one of her blonde curls around his finger and then released it, watching as fell back into place.

"You could come visit me at school," he said. "I could sneak you into my room. It might be fun."

She turned her head, surveying him haughtily. Her previous demeanor had vanished altogether. She was back to her old self. He liked her better this way. This was girl was strong and proud and wouldn't let a boy like Timothy Dewitt push her around. If only this version of didn't disappear when he came around.

"That sounds highly inappropriate, Andrew," she told him, her voice dripping with condescension.

He smiled. Only Virginia Ashworth could take such a superior tone with a member of the royal family.

"You're really something else, Ginny," he murmured.

She smiled. "I know."

* * *

><p>The hallway that led to General Ashworth's study was dimly lit and Andy considered turning back several times as he slowly walked down it. But he kept going. It was important that the general hear what he had to say.<p>

He came to a stop in front of the door. It was slightly ajar and creaked ever so slightly when he lifted his hand and knocked.

"Come in," a gruff voice called from inside.

Andy took a deep breath and pushed the door open and stepped inside. The general glanced up from behind his desk, his eyes widening ever so slightly when he realized who had just walked into his study.

"You lost, boy?" he barked, setting down his pen and leaning back in his seat.

"No, sir."

"Then what are you doing here?" General Ashworth asked. "I hardly pegged you as someone who'd willingly seek out my company."

"I wanted to talk to you about your daughter," Andy said.

The general eyed him suspiciously. "Don't tell me you want to marry her."

"No, sir," Andy replied. "That's not what this is about."

"Go on then."

"You probably know that I'm returning to school tomorrow." He paused, waiting for the general's affirmation.

"Thank heavens for that," General Ashworth muttered.

"Right," Andy continued. "I know you don't like me. And I know that as soon as I'm gone you'll probably be pushing Ginny in the direction of whatever suitor you think will make the best match for her. I'm not going to try to talk you out of that. But I want you to assure me that you will not let her anywhere near Timothy Dewitt."

"Why shouldn't I?" the general asked.

"He hit her, sir," Andy said bluntly. "Multiple times."

General Ashworth's face paled. He seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Don't tell Ginny that I told you," Andy said, turning to leave. "I don't think she'd be too happy about it."

"Wait," the general called just as he reached the door.

Andy stopped, turning back around. "Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for telling me," he said. "I appreciate it."

"I care about your daughter a lot, sir. I don't want that asshole to hurt her anymore. Promise me you won't allow him anywhere near her."

"That boy is going to be lucky if he lives to see tomorrow morning," the general grumbled.

"I punched him in the face," Andy offered.

"Did you?"

Andy nodded. "Broke his nose."

General Ashworth gave a sharp nod, signaling his approval, and went back to his work. Andy knew he was dismissed.

* * *

><p>Ariel sat at the edge of the water, letting the waves lap at her toes. After breakfast had ended, Eric had stormed out of the room without even a glance in her direction. Confused, hurt, and not particularly eager to stick around and attempt to make conversation with his parents, Ariel had come down to the beach to sort through her thoughts.<p>

She couldn't believe that Eric hadn't told the king and queen about her, not even the briefest mention tucked somewhere in a letter. They absolutely hated her. She wasn't even sure the wedding would even happen now. The queen looked as if she would allow it only over her dead body.

It was so frustrating, not being able to tell them the truth about her background. They didn't want her to marry their son because she wasn't of good breeding. But, of course, she was. She had royalty in her blood just like them. During the entire discussion, all she had wanted to do was scream "I'm a princess!" But she couldn't, not without having to then explain that her kingdom was located underwater. She couldn't even tell Eric. She wished that he remembered that time he'd seen her on the beach when she was still a mermaid. It would make things so much easier. She hated keeping such a big secret from him.

"There you are," she heard a voice say. "I was looking all over."

She whipped her head around, expecting to see her fiancé, but was disappointed to see that it was just Andy. Had they always sounded so similar?

"Oh," she said. "It's you."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," he said, coming to sit down beside her.

"I was hoping you were your brother," she murmured, digging her fingers into the sand. "He disappeared after breakfast. Didn't say a word to me either. I'm worried."

"He'll be back soon enough. He probably just needed to cool off a little. The conversation got a little heated."

"Your parents hate me," she said, letting the sand in her hand fall through her fingers. "Especially your mother. I might as well just leave now. There's no way she's going to let me stay in the castle, let alone actually marry Eric."

"She'll come around," Andy said, throwing his arm over shoulder and pulling her close. "If it makes you feel any better, she hates everybody at first. Plus, she and my father are convinced the sun rises out of Eric's ass, so they're not going to think anybody's good enough for him. Don't it so personally."

She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I don't want you to go back to school. You're my best friend here."

"I know, doll. You're mine, too."

They sat in silence for a little while, as Ariel tried to think of something to say.

"You should say goodbye to Clarissa before you leave," she finally murmured.

She felt him stiffen. "I've already told you that I don't want to talk about her," he snapped.

It was when he was angry that Andy looked and sounded the most like his brother, Ariel decided as she pulled away to study him. They looked a lot alike no matter what, but the resemblance became almost uncanny when they were upset. Sometimes it was hard to believe they weren't twins. They were so similar, save for a few small differences. Eric's jawline was more square. Andy's hair was wavier. Their eyes were nearly identical, except Andy's were more hooded and had a certain brightness, a twinkle almost, which gave the allusion that he was trying to seduce everyone he looked at. Ariel had overheard giggling girls in town saying that Andy was going to end up even more handsome than Eric.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I don't mean to pry."

"No, I'm sorry," he replied. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

She closed her eyes, laying her head back on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for quite some time.

* * *

><p>Ariel managed to make it back into the castle and to her bedroom without either of Eric's parents noticing her.<p>

When Eric found her, it was nearly dinner time and her stomach was growling. She had missed lunch, not wanting to face the king and queen without Eric present.

He didn't say anything to her, just climbed into bed and started kissing her. She considered pushing him away and insisting that they talk about what happened at breakfast that morning. But she kept silent instead and let him tug her dress off. Soon they were both naked and he pushed inside her.

To her surprise (and slight discomfort), it was then that he chose to finally talk.

"I hate my parents," he growled. "I really, really fucking hate them."

"Shh," she murmured, her fingers weaving through his hair. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," he panted, pushing deeper inside of her. "The things they said to you were inexcusable. But I'm going to take care of everything, darling. We're going to get married. I promise."

She didn't reply. There was something unsettling about talking about his parents while he was inside her.

Afterward, he rolled off of her and stared up at the ceiling. "I remember on my sixth birthday, my parents threw this huge party for me. All my friends were there and I got more presents than I could count. We played games and had a huge feast with all my favorite food and I loved every minute of it. But that evening, on the way back to my bedroom, I passed my sister's room. And I realized it was her birthday too. I had forgotten about my own twin sister on _our_ birthday. I went inside her room and she was just lying there in the dark by herself. My parents hadn't gotten her a single present. I doubt they even went to see her once the entire day. I sat down on the edge of her bed and it was wet. She had wet her bed and her useless nurse hadn't even noticed. Mariah had been lying alone in her own urine for god only knows how long on her _birthday. _That was the first time I realized how little my parents cared about her. They were ashamed of her and they hid her away. It was the first time I really truly despised them and I have to admit that my opinion of them has only gone down since."

"I'm sure they loved her in their own way," Ariel offered quietly, not sure if she really believed what she was saying. "They just didn't know how to say it."

"I doubt it," Eric said icily, standing up and throwing on his clothes. "I have something I need to take care of," he told her. "If I'm not back in time for dinner, go down and eat anyway. Andy will be there. You won't have to face them alone."

"Eric, wait," she said.

Where in the world was he going?

He didn't wait. He didn't even acknowledge that she had spoken. He opened her door and disappeared from sight without even a glance backwards in her direction.

* * *

><p>The door to the apothecary shop creaked as Eric pushed it open. The wrinkled, stooped man behind the counter glanced up as he stepped inside.<p>

"Your Highness," he wheezed, "what can I do for you this evening?"

"I need a vial of poison," he declared.

The apothecary studied him, his thick, overgrown eyebrows knitting together. "Rat infestation at the castle?" he asked.

"No," Eric replied. "I need something much stronger than that. And undetectable."

The apothecary nodded knowingly. He never asked questions. As long as a person had the money, he would mix up any sort of medicine—or poison—that they desired. He wasn't the only apothecary in the kingdom, but he was the one where the shadiest of characters went, the people with the biggest secrets and the most at stake. Eric had met his fair share of colorful individuals there over the years, some of whom had been vital in his research of mermaids and the Sea Witch, Ursula.

A little while later, Eric slipped out of the shop, tucking a small vial into the pocket of his jacket. He glanced about. The street was deserted, just as it had been when he had entered. Nobody had seen him go in or come out.

He smiled to himself.

Things really were working out perfectly.

* * *

><p><strong>Eric's up to no good, as usual!<strong>

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I suck.**


	15. Chapter 15

The scream that awoke Ariel a week later was one of the loudest she had ever heard. It contained so much pain and sadness that even in her groggy, half-awake state she knew that something awful had happened. She stumbled out of her bed, pulling on a dressing gown and stumbled into the corridor. Down the long hallway, she spotted Queen Isabella, outside of her bed chambers. She was collapsed in a heap on the ground, moaning something unintelligible. Ariel ran down the corridor and knelt down beside her. She was curled up in the fetal position, her face pressed into the carpet.

"Your Majesty," Ariel murmured, shaking her shoulder gently. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"Dead," the queen choked out between sobs, her words muffled by the floor. "Dead."

Alarm arose inside Ariel. "Who?" she asked frantically. "Who's dead?"

The queen didn't reply. She pushed Ariel's hand off her shoulder and continued to cry, her wailing growing louder and louder.

A shadow fell over them both and Ariel glanced up. Eric was standing above them, gazing down at his mother with concern. Ariel felt a wave of relief wash over her. The queen hadn't meant wasn't dead. He was alive and well and standing right beside her. But that meant it had to be…

_Oh my._

"Mother," Eric whispered, kneeling down beside Ariel and lowering his head to the queen's ear. "Mother, what's the matter."

She finally lifted her head and sat up, her eyes red, her gaze unfocused. "Your father is dead," she said hoarsely. "The king is dead."

"Oh, Mother," Eric gasped, grasping her hand tightly. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. How…how did it happen?"

The queen shrugged helplessly, looking as if any minute she might collapse once again under the weight of her sorrow. "I woke up this morning and he was gone. I just don't understand. He wasn't sick…or old. It doesn't make sense." She gazed pitifully at her eldest son. "What am I to do without him?"

"I'll take care of you, Mother," he murmured softly. "Ariel and I will take care of you."

And then as if by magic, the queen stiffened and her expression turned cold. It was as if the mention of Ariel made her forget that her husband was lying dead in her bed. She turned and stared at her son's fiancée with distaste. "You can't really mean that you still plan to marry this little urchin, do you? I won't allow it. You're father disapproved most vehemently. Do you really wish to dishonor his memory by marrying a girl he did not wish you to marry?"

"Mother," Eric said coolly, "I am the king now. I can marry whomever I please."

The queen pursed her lips tightly together, staring down Ariel with a gaze so intense Ariel was quite certain she could see right through her.

"You did this, didn't you," the queen said, her voice shockingly calm and collected, but still cold as ice. "You're responsible for the king's death."

"Excuse me?" Ariel sputtered, not sure she had heard correctly.

"You knew that you'd never be allowed to sink your claws into Eric without the king's approval, so you devised a plan to get rid of him," she accused, her voice growing louder and more unsteady with each word.

Ariel's eyes widened and she instinctively scooted away. "Don't be ridiculous!" she exclaimed, turning to Eric, pleading silently for his help.

"Mother," Eric murmured, "listen to what you're saying. You don't honestly believe that, do you? It's utter nonsense."

The queen wiped her nose with the sleeve of nightgown, looking particularly non-regal. "You're right," she muttered quietly. "I…I don't know what came over me." She gave Ariel a strained, half-hearted smile, which Ariel assumed was the best she could muster up under the circumstances. "Forgive me."

"Of course," Ariel said. "And I am truly sorry for your loss. Please accept my deepest condolences."

"I met Harold when I was six years old," the queen murmured. She smiled almost serenely then, twisting the large diamond ring on her finger. "He was eight and I thought he was the most handsome boy I'd ever seen. I was attending a banquet here at the castle with my parents and my mother told me that he was one day going to be king. I have to admit that caused my interest in him to increase exponentially." She gazed wistfully at Eric. "You look so very like him sometimes. I know everyone always says that both you and Andy take after me, looks-wise. But sometimes, Eric, I look at you and all I see is Harold. It's certain mannerisms and facial expressions, I think. I see so much more of him in you than I do in your brother."

Ariel felt tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to look at Eric, to see how he was holding up. His expression was unreadable. His mouth was pursed together and his eyes, trained on his mother, were void of any emotion. She wondered what was going through his head. His relationship with his father, by his own admission, had been quite strained. Eric told her that he hated the king, but Ariel was sure that, at least deep down, he was feeling some sadness, even if he couldn't show it.

"Is Father's body in your room?" Eric asked, as if his mother hadn't said anything at all.

She looked a little shocked that he hadn't reacted to anything she'd just admitted, but she nodded. "Yes, in the bed."

"We'll need to contact the undertaker to come fetch his body and take it to the morgue," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to help his mother to her feet. He glanced over at Ariel as she got to her feet. "Can you do that, darling?" When she nodded, he continued. "I'll write to Andy and tell him the news. He'll need to make arrangements to come home for the funeral. After that, I'll figure out how to announce the news to the kingdom. How is this sort of thing normally handled? Mother, do you know?"

His mother shrugged helplessly. Ariel had a feeling that she would much rather not have to think about any of this.

"Eric," Ariel said softly. "You and I can figure everything out. I think your mother needs to lie down."

The queen shook her head. "I can't go back in there," she whispered, gesturing toward her bedroom. "He's still in there."

"You can use my bed," Ariel offered.

The queen looked grateful. "Thank you," she murmured. "I think I will."

Ariel watched as she wandered away down the corridor. After the queen had disappeared into her bedroom, she turned back to her fiancé.

"Eric," she said softly, reaching for his hand.

He pulled away from her, shaking his head. "There's a lot to be done, Ariel," he said, his voice sharper than she suspected he intended it to be.

"Right," she replied. "Of course."

He kissed her quickly on the cheek and hurried off. "The undertaker!" he called over his shoulder just before he disappeared around the corner. "Get him here as soon as possible, darling!"

* * *

><p>The cathedral was filled to the brim with people during the king's funeral. Ariel sat in the front pew in between Eric and Andy. On the other side of Eric, his mother, dressed head to toe in black, bawled into her handkerchief for the entirety of the Mass<p>

The difference in Eric and Andy's appearance and disposition was especially noticeable, Ariel couldn't help but think. Eric was as stoic as usual, his suit perfectly pressed, his hair perfectly coifed. He sat up straight, his hands in his lap, staring straight ahead the entire time. He gave no outwardly signs that he was at his father's funeral. He could have been anywhere. His expression never changed, no matter what was being said.

Andy, on the other hand, looked like he'd gotten dressed in the dark. His suit was wrinkled and his hair mussed. He slouched in his seat and fidgeted throughout the entire Mass. He stank of booze and his eyes were bloodshot. Ariel had expected his mother to scold him for his appearance before they left for the church and remind him, that as the royal family, they had to make a good impression. But she hadn't said anything to him. She hadn't said anything to any of them, now that Ariel thought about it. She hadn't even really looked at them. And even when she was looking, it didn't seem like she was actually _seeing._ It was as if she was just looking right through everyone.

The most uncomfortable moment had come when the bishop mentioned that the king had always been a loving father to his two children. The utter silence of the church in that moment was interrupted by a very loud bark of laughter coming from Ariel's right side.

"Andy," Ariel hissed, as the bishop paused, clearly thrown off guard, and everyone in the church turned and gaped at the younger prince.

"Loving father, my ass," Andy muttered under his breath. "And his _two_ kids, huh?"

Ariel had nearly forgotten that Mariah had been kept a secret from the kingdom. It was so horrific that she tried not to think too much about it. How could any parent be so ashamed of their child that they hid them away? Regardless of how physically and mentally ill she had been, it just didn't seem right.

The only two people in the church who barely had a reaction to what had just happened were Andy's mother and brother. His mother was still hunched over, weeping silently into her handkerchief, and made no indication that she had even heard his outburst. Ariel thought perhaps she saw a flicker of annoyance in Eric's eye, but nothing else.

She sat up straighter and tried to focus on what the priest was saying. Beside her, Andy closed his eyes and slumped even lower in his seat. She elbowed him in the side. His eyes fluttered back open for a moment and then closed again.

This time she did nothing.

* * *

><p>King Triton ran his fingers over the gold prongs of his trident, wishing once more that his powers worked on land. If they did, he could go to shore himself, find his youngest daughter, and bring her home. But he had no control over anything that went on up there. His beautiful Ariel had been gone for months. But there was still time, the prophecy the seer had spoken of all those years ago stated that her actions would lead to the destruction of the kingdom when she was eighteen years old. She was still only sixteen. There was still time. He only worried that if they waited too long, things would have spiraled so far out of control that they would not be able to put a stop to it. The seer had spoken of her falling in love with a human. Once that happened, he feared that she would never return, even if he found a way to go and fetch her. She would be lost to him forever. And consequently, so would his kingdom.<p>

He could only hope that the human was that was destined to steal her heart had not already done so.

"Triton," a silky voice purred, drawing him from his thoughts.

He lifted his head. A mermaid was hovering the doorway, her red lips pulled into that crooked smile he knew all too well. She looked as radiant as she had centuries before, when he'd been a foolish young man desperately in love.

"You came," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Yes," she said, not moving from the doorway. "I got sick of all those pesky men of yours insisting that I take a meeting with you."

"They told you why I needed you, did they not?" King Triton asked. "It's a most desperate situation. I do not understand why you refused to help me over and over again."

She lifted her hand, examining her fingernails with a look of utter disinterest. "They told me that your youngest daughter ran off to Ursula and got herself a pair of legs. Now your precious little girl's up on land with those legs wrapped around a human who's going to somehow destroy your precious little kingdom." She glanced back up, smirking. "Did I get that right?"

He glared at her. Except for the streaks of gray in her wild auburn hair and the lines around her eyes and mouth, she hardly looked any different than the last time he'd seen her. Back then, he'd believed she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

He still did.

"More or less," he replied gruffly.

She pulled herself from the large archway and swam toward him, coming to a stop a few feet away from where he sat in his throne. "Shall I bow down to you, Your Majesty?" she asked, her tone full of mocking sincerity.

"You always refused to bow down to me, Morgana," he said softly.

She studied him for a long time. "Did Athena make you happy?" she finally asked, just as softly.

"Yes," he replied, without hesitation. "She made me unfathomably happy. I do not regret her, Morgana. I do not regret one second. She gave me seven beautiful daughters and more love than I deserved. I only regret that her time on this earth was so short. Illness took her long before her time."

"Well," Morgana said, "I guess it's true that men love a younger woman. Centuries younger, in this case."

The lifespans of mer-people were much longer than those of humans. For the first five or so decades, the aging process was about the same. A 50-year-old mermaid and a 50-year-old human woman would physically look the same. It was once old age was reached that the process started to slow down. If a human saw King Triton, they would assume he was about 65 or 70 years old. However, he was actually closing in on 350 years old. He'd married a much younger Athena twenty five years ago. However, large age gaps were normal in their society. It was especially common for men as old as him to marry much younger women when they wanted children.

"Don't sound so bitter," he said. "You make it sound like I left you for her. I was alone for three centuries after _you_ left. The entire kingdom thought I was going to die childless and without an heir. You broke me and she put me back together."

"I had no choice but to leave," Morgana whispered.

"That's not true," he said. "I begged you to stay. I wanted you to be my queen, Morgana. I wanted to spend my life with you. I wanted to make love to you every night and wake up next to you every morning. I wanted to have a bunch of babies with your good looks and my charming personality. I wanted to die with you by my side, after centuries of loving only you. But, instead, you left. And you took a part of my heart with you. A tiny little piece I was never able to give to Athena. A piece that's always been yours, regardless of what you did to me."

"I couldn't have stayed!" Morgana snapped. "The entire kingdom would have protested if you'd married me. Nobody would have trusted me and your popularity would have suffered as a result. My sister betrayed the entire kingdom, Triton. And everybody thought I was in league with her, even you. Don't look at me like that—I know you did, at least at first. When you banished my sister for treason, I had no choice but to leave as well. Everyone wanted me gone. They practically demanded you banish me right along with my sister. It was best for both of us. It meant that no angry mob would come for me in the middle of the night and kill me, and it meant no one would hate you for marrying a traitor."

"I wouldn't have been marrying a traitor! I know you weren't in league with our sister, Morgana. I admit the thought crossed my mind right after everything happened. But you explained it all to me and I trusted you with all my heart."

"The rest of the kingdom didn't know that," she said quietly. "It would have been impossible for us to marry. It would have been impossible for me to stay. So I left, Triton."

The king closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I need your help, Morgana. Please help me. The survival of the kingdom depends on it."

"Why should it matter to me whether this place is destroyed or not? Last time I was here the entire kingdom drove me away with their hatred and distrust. This place thinks I'm a traitorous harlot who used you to get government secrets to give to my sister. Atlantica isn't my home, Triton. It hasn't been my home since my own neighbors shunned me for something I did not do."

"Can't you do it for me?" he asked quietly, opening his eyes. "You may not care about what happens to Atlantica, but I do. Morgana, please. I need your help. I don't have the power that you have. You're my only hope."

"Not your only hope. My sister is just as powerful, maybe even more so," she said with a smirk. "And really, she's responsible for this whole mess. Perhaps you should go beg that she fix it."

His eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't have anything to do with that witch even if there was the slightest chance she would help me. Ursula is a monster! I should have just killed her when I had the chance. Banishment was too kind. She didn't deserve it and it's given her a chance to ruin too many lives, including my daughter's."

Morgana said nothing. Her hand moved to the small chain that hung around her neck. Hanging from it was a single pearl. King Triton had given it to her when they were two stupid kids who were desperately in love.

"I wanted you to chase after me," she murmured quietly. "When I left, I expected you to come after me. But you just let me leave."

"I begged you to stay."

"Yes," she agreed. "But once I actually left, you just let me go. You didn't follow me. You should have followed me and begged some more. You let me swim out of your life much too easily, Triton. I wanted you to follow me."

"You wouldn't have come back with me. It would have been futile."

"You're right!" she said. "I wouldn't have. But I wanted you try."

"So that's why you won't help me?" he asked quietly. "Because you're bitter I didn't chase after you?'

"I wouldn't say that," she replied.

"It seems like it!" he snapped. "It seems like you're still so angry about something that happened when I was stupid kid in my twenties that you're going to let my kingdom fall to the hands of humans just to get back at me and everyone who thinks you're a traitor and drove you out. You don't live here anymore so who cares if it's destroyed, right? Serves us all right, huh?"

"Don't presume to know anything about me!" she hissed. "I was a child when we were together. You know nothing of the woman I've become."

Before he could reply, she had spun around and begun to swim away. She was gone before he could even fully register that she was leaving.

He buried his face in his hands and wept.

For Ariel.

For his kingdom.

For lost love.

* * *

><p>"Eric," his mother murmured that night, after they had all eaten dinner in silence. "I want to talk to you."<p>

They were both still sitting in the dining room. Ariel and Andy had both excused themselves before dessert. Ariel said she had a headache and wanted to lie down. Andy hadn't given a reason, but he no doubt was off drinking away his pain.

"All right," he said, not sure what to expect. She'd hardly said a word since his father had…_mysteriously_ passed away.

She waved away the servants and then the two of them were completely alone. She stood up from her seat and came to stand beside him, clutching his hands tightly in her own.

"My darling boy," she murmured. "My beautiful, darling boy. What a blessing you were." She paused, no doubt struggling to put her thoughts into words. "We had a lot of trouble early in our marriage, your father and I, conceiving children. When you and Mariah were born, I knew God had finally granted us two miracles. And then three years later we got Andy and I wondered how it was possible that He saw fit to give us another. How did anyone deserve so much happiness, so many perfect little miracles?"

Eric wanted to ask her why she shoved one of those so-called "perfect little miracles" away into a room and kept her existence a secret while all but forgetting her entirely, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I know that people in the kingdom have had their doubts about your ability to be king," she continued, her voice growing louder, but also—strangely—higher and higher, as well. "But your father and I never had any doubt in our minds that you'd be a wonderful king, darling. You've practically run the place over this past year or so while Harold and I were off gallivanting around the world. And you did beautifully. You're a natural leader, Eric. You will prove everyone wrong, I know you will."

"Thanks, Mother," he muttered, wishing she would shut up and let him leave. There was something crazy in her eyes that was making him uncomfortable. She seemed slightly hysterical, like something bad was going to happen if she didn't finish telling him everything that was apparently on her mind.

"Promise me you'll always make wise decisions," she said, clutching his hands more tightly, her fingernails digging into his flesh. "As the king, you're responsible for the happiness of an entire kingdom of people. Always put them first, Eric. Promise me!"

"I promise, I promise," he said quickly. Had losing her husband caused her to completely lose her mind? Why was she acting so strangely? "Don't worry, Mother."

"It's my job to worry," she replied.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Like you said, I've practically been doing this all on my own for quite some time now."

"You're right," she said. "Of course you're right. You're always right, my brilliant boy."

"Okaaaay," he said, dragging out the word as he wondered when she would drop his hands. "Thank you for the talk, Mother."

"We should have talked more," she said thoughtfully. "I wish we had."

"We can rectify that," he said. "From here on out, we'll talk more."

He, of course, had no intention of doing any such thing. But at that point he'd say anything to end this particular encounter.

"Good, good," she muttered, finally dropping his hands.

He quickly stood up, before she thought of more to say, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Mother."

"Good night, Eric," she said, smiling up at him. "I love you."

He tried to remember if he'd ever heard her say those three words to him before. He was pretty sure she never had, at least not in recent memory.

"I love you, too," he mumbled awkwardly, the words nearly getting stuck in his throat. Those damned words…he needed to get better at saying them. One day someone was bound to notice the utter disgust he felt whenever he was forced to profess his love for someone.

She wandered out of the room, strangely enough humming under her breath as she went, leaving Eric behind with his thoughts.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Eric was shaken awake by Andy.<p>

"What?" he grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Mother's dead," his brother said. "She hanged herself in her room."

For a brief moment, Eric didn't comprehend what his brother was saying. By the time it had sunk in, Andy was in tears, bawling his eyes out right there next to Eric's bed.

Eric patted his brother's arm awkwardly, muttering meaningless, comforting words.

This was certainly unexpected.

He had purposefully gotten rid of one parent and somehow managed to lose the other in the process.

* * *

><p><strong>Pretty eventful chapter!<strong>

**Don't forget to leave me a review and tell me all your thoughts!**


	16. Chapter 16

Eric pushed open the door to Ariel's bedroom and stepped inside, making his way over to her bed and perching on the edge.

"Ariel," he murmured, shaking her shoulder. "Ariel, wake up."

Her eyes opened and she rolled onto her back, blinking groggily up at him. "Eric?" she mumbled, stifling a yawn. "What's wrong?"

"My mother's dead," he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue.

"What?" she screeched, pulling herself into a sitting position and gaping at him. "What do you mean? How?"

"She hanged herself," he muttered.

"Oh my god. Eric, I'm so sorry. That's…that's awful." She paused, her eyebrows knit together in concern. "I hope you know…I mean…" She ducked her head, clearly struggling to find the words. "What I mean to say is, losing both your parents within such a short amount of time is difficult in any situation. But I can't even imagine what it's like for you right now. You father dies suddenly and out of nowhere you're king and are responsible for the entire kingdom. And now your mother's gone too? You must feel so alone and scared. I know I would. But you're not alone, Eric. Please know that. I'm here, darling. I'll always be here."

He pulled her into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck. For perhaps the first time, it hit him—really hit him—that he was the king. What Ariel had just said was true. Both his parents were gone, forever. And after their mother's funeral, Andy would return once again to school. Then it really would just be Ariel and him. How strange. Eric had despised his parents, _hated_ them. But they'd always been there, even if "there" was halfway across the world. But now—through his own actions—they were gone. And the fate of an entire kingdom rested in his hands. That was a lot of responsibility for a 19-year-old boy. A tiny bit of doubt began to creep into his mind. Maybe killing his father hadn't been the right decision after all. Not because he felt guilty (he didn't), but because it suddenly occurred to him that he might not be ready for everything that he was now responsible for.

"Do you think I'm ready?" he murmured into Ariel's ear. "Do you think I'll be a good king?"

"I've told you a thousand times that you will be," she whispered back, smoothing her hand across his jaw. "I have no doubt."

He hated that he actually took comfort in her words. How utterly ridiculous he was being. She had no prophetic powers. She could not see into the future more so than anyone else. Her belief in him was assurance of nothing.

He pulled back, feeling disgusted with himself. He'd never sought the comfort of another person before and he certainly wasn't going to start now. He'd practically been running this kingdom all on his own quite successfully for some time now. There was no reason to start doubting his abilities just because his parents were dead.

"I think I need to be alone for a while," he told her brusquely, pushing her gently off of his lap and standing.

She stared up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. He supposed his attitude had changed rather suddenly.

"All right, darling," she said. "I understand."

He kissed her swiftly on the forehead and turned to leave.

"I love you," she called after him.

He wasn't able to bring himself to reply.

* * *

><p>Clarissa Dufresne didn't expect to see Andy wandering up her street that evening. She had been sitting on her porch swing, enjoying a novel and a glass of cold lemonade when she glanced up and saw him. He wasn't so much walking as he was stumbling, she noticed. The poor boy looked moments away from passing out cold.<p>

She stood up, setting her book down, and hurried down the steps and out into her yard.

He didn't say anything when he saw her. For a moment she thought he might not acknowledge her at all. But he did, ambling over until he came to a stop a couple feet away from her.

"Lissa," he said, her words slightly slurred.

"Andy," she mumbled back in reply.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them seeming to know what to say next. She was beginning to think of way to excuse herself, when his expression crumpled and the tears began to flow.

"My parents are dead," he sputtered. "Lissa, they're dead."

It occurred to her that while the rest of the kingdom was in shock over the sudden deaths of their king and queen only days apart, and preoccupied wondering how the new king would fair, Andy was simply mourning his parents. He hadn't lost a king and queen; he had lost a mother and a father. Her heart broke for him.

"I know," she murmured. "I'm so sorry, Andy.

He cocked his head to the side, gazing at her with glazed eyes. They were the eyes that had reminded her so much of Eric's that she couldn't be near him anymore. But in that moment, all she saw was Andy. All she saw was the boy she loved. Her heart began to ache. She'd missed him so much. Had he missed her? Or had he been too busy with Virginia Ashworth to remember that there had been a time when he had wanted to marry her?

She felt a drop of water hit her nose and she glanced up at the sky. Without her noticing the sky had darkened considerably, the sun nowhere to be seen.

"I should go," Andy muttered, pulling a flask from his pocket and taking a sip. He turned, teetering slightly as he did so, squinting off into the distance. "Which way's I live again?" he slurred, his words barely making sense.

The rain was falling harder and the sky was growing darker. Andy was drunk out of his mind, and from the way he kept twitching nervously and staring past her with glassy eyes, Clarissa had a sickening feeling that he might be on something else as well.

"You can't walk all the way back to the castle in this condition," she said. "Just…come inside, okay? My parents are at a dinner party and won't be back until much later. You can sleep on my floor or something and sneak out in the morning through the window like you used to."

He took a step closer to her and she instinctively backed away. Ever since Eric had raped her, it was always her reaction when someone got too close.

Andy frowned, looking hurt. "Why'd you stop loving me?" he asked quietly.

It would have hurt less if he'd plunged a knife directly into her heart.

"Just come inside," she said. "Please."

He stumbled up the steps of her porch and through her front door, tracking mud up the stairs and into her bedroom. She fetched them both towels to dry off and when he asked her for a something to eat, she went to fetch him something left over from dinner. When she returned, he was fast sleep, sprawled across her bed.

She sighed. "I said the floor, Andy," she muttered, exasperated.

She wandered over to her bed, peering down at him. He looked so peaceful, much too peaceful to wake up. She would just have to leave him where he was. It wasn't so scary being near him while he was asleep anyway. She could deal with that, she thought, as she changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed beside him.

She reached out, stroking his dark hair. "Oh, Andy," she murmured. "I never stopped loving you, silly boy. How could I possibly?"

He stirred slightly, edging closer to her. For a moment, she thought he might wake up. But he didn't, and she wasn't sure if she was sad or relieved.

* * *

><p>Eric had disappeared for the entire day, much to Ariel's concern. She searched the castle high and low for him, but he was nowhere to be found. She didn't see him again until dinner, during which they ate in near total silence, just the two of them. Andy was God knows where doing God knows what.<p>

It wasn't until the servants had brought dessert that Eric finally spoke. "I've been thinking," he said, "about our wedding."

"Really?" Ariel asked, surprised. His mother had just taken her own life the night before. She would have thought their upcoming nuptials would have been one of the farthest things from his mind, especially considering that he'd been ignoring her all day.

"We need to pick a date," he said.

Perhaps this was a coping mechanism. He was pretending everything was normal by worrying about mundane things and not focusing on the fact that his parents were both gone.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, it's currently September," he said.

"It is," she agreed.

"We'll need time to plan the wedding. It has to be perfect. I am the king, after all. And you will be my queen. We can't wed in some thrown together, shoddy ceremony."

"I suppose not."

"Perhaps we should shoot for next summer?" he mused. "June, maybe?"

"That sounds reasonable," she said.

"I don't have a calendar on me," he said. "But I think the second to last weekend in June could work well. We'll go on a two week long honeymoon and be back in time to celebrate your birthday on July 7th."

Ariel could think of no reason why this wasn't a perfectly good plan, so she nodded. "That sounds lovely, Eric. If it works for you, then it works for me."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad."

They continued eating their dessert in silence.

Eric took the last bite of his crème brulee. "I think I'm going to head up to bed. It's been a long day." He paused, smirking at her. "Care to join me?"

She blushed, glancing over at the footman standing by the doorway. If he'd heard what Eric had said, he made no indication, keeping his expression as stoic as usual.

"That sounds nice," she murmured.

* * *

><p>Clarissa woke up snuggled up against Andy. She laid there silently for a while, carefully trying not to wake up. Maybe it was creepy, but she loved watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful. Especially in comparison to how he'd looked the night before, drunk and miserable and soaked with rain. Right now, curled up under her sheets, his mouth hanging slightly open, he looked like he could be any 16-year-old boy in the world. He didn't look like someone who'd just lost both his parents, someone with a drinking problem and a psychotic older brother who was now king.<p>

She wished she wasn't damaged, broken, shattered into a million pieces. She wished she could be with him, love him the way she had once been able too.

Andy stirred, and she lurched away from him, scooting back over to her side of the bed. His eyes opened, and he blinked groggily at her.

"Lissa," he muttered, sitting up slowly and clutching his head. "Why…Why'm I here?"

She explained to him what had happened the night before. "I'm so truly sorry for your loss," she added after she had finished. "I told you last night, but I don't suppose you remember."

"I'm sorry that I came here," he said. "I was clearly not thinking straight. I know you made it clear last time that you didn't want to see me again."

"I didn't mind," she murmured quietly. "I missed you."

A flicker of hope flashed across his face and she immediately regretted her words. It was wrong for her to say anything that he might misconstrue as hope that they might pick up where they left off. That just wasn't possible. At least not for a long, long time. She still needed to figure out how to pick up all her pieces and glue them back together. And she had a feeling that Andy needed to do the same thing. They were both much too damaged to be together.

"How are things with Virginia Ashworth?" she asked, in an attempt to change the subject and remind him that he was with someone else.

Outside, the sun came out from behind some clouds and light streamed through the window. Andy winced and turned away, cursing under his breath. Clarissa did not envy the headache he no doubt had right now.

"Things are fine with Virginia," he said coolly.

"Are you going to marry her?

Andy squinted at her. "I guess that depends, doesn't it?"

"On what?" she asked.

"I think you know," he replied quietly.

"Andy—" she whispered.

But he had already rolled over, pinning her beneath him. "Come on, love," he murmured into her hair. "Why are we doing this to ourselves? We belong together."

In an instant, it all came rushing back. Eric, heavy and panting and sweating, pinning her down and forcing himself inside of her. The pain. The blood. The tears. And then the aftermath. All the fear and confusion and overwhelming loneliness. And the baby she hadn't known was growing inside her until it was nothing but a stain on her sheets.

She opened her mouth to tell Andy to get off, but no words came. Instead she let out of hysterical scream, one so loud it was sure to wake the neighbors. In that one scream, she heard all the pain she's been keeping bottled up for so long. It was her release. Then the tears came. Loud, ugly sobbing.

Andy rolled off of her immediately. Through her tears, she could see the alarm in his eyes. "Lissa!" he said, his voice panicked. "Lissa, baby, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She didn't reply. She_ couldn't_ reply.

"What happened to you?" he asked, the hysteria in his voice rising. "Please tell me. Lissa, _please_."

She just shook her head. "Just leave," she muttered. "Now."

He stood up, backing away from the bed slowly, not taking his eyes off of her until he was at the window. He had just disappeared from sight when her parents came bursting into her room.

She told them she'd had a nightmare, and watched as they exchanged a worried look. They had no doubt noticed how strange she'd been acting for months now. Even if she was lying this time, there had been plenty more occasions when she had awoken from nightmares, screaming and soaked in sweat. She spent nearly all her time in her room. She never saw her friends. But every time they tried to get her to talk to them, she insisted everything was fine. She hated worrying them, but she didn't know what else to do.

* * *

><p>The queen's funeral took place that afternoon in the same church as the king's, with the same bishop and most of the same people in attendance. Ariel wore the same dress and Eric wore the same suit. They sat in the same pew and Eric had the same empty expression on his face the entire time. The only thing missing was Andy. He was nowhere to be found when the time came to leave for the church. Ariel had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that he would show up once they had already arrived. But he hadn't.<p>

"What if something awful has happened to him?" she said to Eric that night at dinner, when he still hadn't returned. "What if he's dead in the ditch? Or he drunkenly wandered into the ocean and drowned?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Eric said. "I'm sure he's fine."

"He missed his own mother's funeral!" she exclaimed. "He's not fine, Eric."

"Who the hell wants to attend their mother's funeral?" Eric shot back. "It doesn't mean he's hurt or dead, Ariel. It just means he didn't want to see his mother's lifeless body in a casket while listening to an old man drone on and one about meaningless nonsense involving God and heaven's light."

"Well, of course no one wants to go to their mother's funeral! But you do anyway! It's expected. I went to my mother's. You went to your mother's…And your father's. Andy should have been there. And the fact that he wasn't is worrying to me."

"Your mother died?" Eric asked.

For a moment, Ariel was confused. Then she remembered that Eric knew nothing of her family. "Yes," she told him. "I was quite young when it happened though, only four. It was sad, of course. But I can't imagine what it would have been like if it had happened when I was older like you and Andy."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Eric said. "A little girl should not have to grow up without her mother."

"I had six older sisters," she said with a shrug. "They were there for me, even if my mother couldn't be."

"Andy's all right, Ariel," Eric murmured. "I'm sure of it. He'll come back home when he's ready."

"He's an alcoholic, Eric," she said quietly. "And he's been through more emotional trauma in the past few days than anyone his age should have to go through. You cannot possibly be sure that he's all right."

An emotion she couldn't quite place flickered in Eric's eyes. "Do you wish me to send out some men to look for him?"

She nodded. "Yes, please."

"It'll have to wait until morning."

Ariel didn't see why, but she decided not to argue.

* * *

><p>Andy woke up the next morning with another throbbing headache, curled up on a remote part of the beach. He sat up slowly, spitting sand from his mouth and wiping it from his clothes and face. He stood up, nearly stepping on a pile of something that he suspected was his own vomit.<p>

"Shit," he muttered, trying to recall the events of the previous day.

He remembered everything that had happened with Clarissa; that was burned permanently into his brain. But after that everything was just a blur.

He'd missed his mother's funeral, he realized. Eric was going to be pissed. That was not a good impression for a prince to make. Members of the royal family did not miss funerals.

They also didn't pass out drunk on the beach and spend the night curled up next to their own vomit.

Andy wasn't a very good prince.

But all he could really focus on was Clarissa. Something terrible had happened to her, he was sure of it. But he didn't know what and he was pretty sure she wasn't going to tell him. In fact, he was fairly certain she would never talk to him again.

He'd never felt more helpless in his life.

And sad.

And lonely.

He was covered in scars, the kind you couldn't see.

Clarissa had them too.

He sighed heavily, and began his walk back to the castle.

* * *

><p><strong>In case it wasn't clear from the one line about it in this chapter, Clarissa got pregnant after Eric raped her but she didn't realize until after she had miscarried.<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

Autumn passed by faster than Ariel expected it to. Winter was a bit slower, but it too came and went. Soon enough even spring had come to a close, and Ariel and Eric's wedding was right on the horizon.

In fact, it was only a week away.

It was a week away and the dress Eric had insisted that Ariel have designed by a famous Parisian dressmaker did not fit.

"I do not understand!" the dressmaker exclaimed with a thick French accent. "I was meticulous with my measurements! I spent months putting this masterpiece together! It the highlight of my career! It must fit!"

"But it doesn't!" Ariel replied. "It's too tight. I can't even button it."

"This is unacceptable!" The dressmaker's beady eyes looked as if they were about to pop right out of his head. He gestured frantically at the wedding planner, Madeleine Armistead, who was hovering in the corner. "Help her with the buttons, Madame. Perhaps she just can't reach by herself."

"That's not it," Ariel said, frustrated. "It just doesn't fit properly."

"How could you have gained so much weight in such a short time? You're a bride! You should be watching your figure! Have you been eating more than you should?"

"No! I haven't been eating much at all, actually," she said. "I've been feeling sick for a while now. It must be pre-wedding nerves or something."

A startled look passed across Madeleine's face. "Ariel," she said briskly, "I need to talk to you alone in the hallway. Please excuse us, Monsieur."

The dressmaker pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. "Fine!" he snapped. "Walk away in the middle of the biggest crisis of my career! See if I care!"

"Excellent," Madeleine said, grabbing Ariel by the wrist and yanking her out of the bedroom and into the deserted corridor."

"What's going on?" Ariel asked, glancing about uncomfortably. She hardly wished to be standing around in an ill-fitting dress with her back completely exposed. Anyone could walk by and see her.

"Have you and the king engaged in sexual intercourse?" Madeleine whispered frantically.

Ariel's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" she hissed, affronted. "I hardly see how that's—"

"Answer the damn question, Ariel!"

"Fine!" Ariel snapped. "Yes! Now tell me why you needed to know something so personal!"

"Have you menstruated this month?" Madeleine asked quietly.

Ariel blinked, stunned into silence. Suddenly she realized what the other woman was getting at.

"Er, no," she finally managed to get out. "I haven't."

"And last month? Did it happen last month?"

Ariel shook her head, feeling as if she was about to burst into tears. She had been so caught up with planning the wedding that she hadn't even noticed.

"Ariel, you're pregnant," the wedding planner stated bluntly. "I'm almost certain of it."

Ariel's head was spinning. This really shouldn't be such a shock to her. She always knew it was a risk. Yes, there were methods she and Eric used to try and prevent something like this from happening. But none of it was very reliable.

"What—what am I going to do?" she sputtered.

"If I were you I'd pray you're not more than two months—three at the most—into this pregnancy. That way, you can say that baby came early when you give birth six or seven months after your wedding."

"What should I tell Eric?" she asked nervously.

"That's your decision, Ariel."

"But I don't know what to do!" she wailed. "This wasn't supposed to happen! I'm only going to be seventeen when it's born. I'm too young to be a mother."

"Ariel, listen to me," Madeleine said. "If you're old enough to sleep with someone and get married, then you're old enough to be a mother. You made your bed and now you have to sleep in it."

Ariel didn't particularly agree. Sleeping with Eric was scary and a little painful the first time or two. But now it was fun. It felt good. She liked doing it. But caring for a child? Being a mother? That was on a whole different level. That was not something she was ready for.

Not at all.

* * *

><p>Ever since Morgana had told him that she refused to help him, King Triton had sunk into an extreme depression. For months he had barely left his sleeping quarters. He'd spent hours at a time trying to figure out a way to get his youngest daughter back, but to no avail. Morgana was his only hope. He'd sent her message after message, begging her to reconsider. But she hadn't responded to a single one.<p>

The day was drawing to a close and the king's room was growing darker and darker. He was fading away into sleep when a figure appeared in the doorway. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he squinted at the person, trying to make out who it was.

"Who's there?" he asked, when the person did not identify his or herself.

"Oh, come on," a very familiar-sounding voice replied. "You going to pretend you don't know me, Your Majesty?"

"Morgana?" he exclaimed, unable to hide the shock in his voice. "What—what are you doing here?"

She swam to the edge of his bed, not answering his question. "Tell me about her," she murmured instead. "Your youngest daughter. Tell me about Ariel."

He didn't ask why. If there was any chance Morgana was reconsidering her refusal to help, then he was not going to waste a moment asking questions.

"She's very headstrong," he began. "A lot like you were, actually…"

Morgana listened attentively to every word. When he had finished, she smiled ever so slightly. "She sounds like an amazing girl, Triton. I can only imagine how much you must miss her, how much you must worry about her."

"It's unbearable," he muttered. "Ariel was always the cleverest, the most beautiful. I know as a father I shouldn't have favorites, and I love all my daughters dearly. But there's just something about Ariel. She has a spark that the rest of them don't have, Morgana. As sad as it made me, I'm not surprised she left. She was always searching for more than what she had."

Morgana crawled into bed beside him. Her action should have surprised him, disgusted him even. But instead it just felt right. For an instant, it was as if the last 300 years hadn't happened. They were crazy, reckless kids again and she was back in his bed where she belonged.

"You should know something, Triton," she murmured, snuggling up against him. "When I said that I couldn't help you, it had nothing to do with me being bitter or wanting revenge on the kingdom for shunning me or on you for not chasing after me when I left. I would never let something so petty get in the way of helping you find your baby girl. I'm not a monster. I'm not my sister.

"Then why did you refuse?" he asked.

"Something's happening to me. I'm not exactly sure what. It might be a side effect of old age. Or it might be something else altogether. Perhaps my bitch of a sister put a curse on me. I don't know. All I know is that I can't do magic like I used to. I get sick every time I try. The more powerful the magic, the sicker I become. The magic required to get your daughter back, well…it could kill me."

King Triton felt his heart shatter. It seemed as if Ariel—and his kingdom—might really be lost to him forever. "Then I cannot ask you to help," he said quietly.

"No," she said, her eyes blazing with an intensity he used to know so well. "I've decided that I'm willing to try. I'm old. I've lived far too long as it is. But Ariel is young. She has so much life ahead of her. If I die saving her, then that is a sacrifice I will willingly make."

"Morgana," he whispered. "I can't ask you—"

"Hush," she said, placing her index finger against his lips. "You told me last time we saw each other that when I left you all those centuries ago I took a piece of your heart with me, a piece of your heart that's always belonged to me. And here's the thing, Triton, you've always had a piece of my heart as well. I've only ever loved one man and that man is you. I can't sit by and let you suffer, not while knowing there is something I can do to help."

He cupped her face in his hands. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much."

It had been 300 years since Triton had made love to Morgana. It had been something he'd thought about a lot since then. He'd dreamed about her more times than he could count. But that night with her surpassed every fantasy he'd ever had.

Some things just felt right.

Some things just felt perfect.

Some things just came more naturally than breathing.

* * *

><p>Ariel and Eric were married on the second to last weekend in June, in a beautiful ceremony on board a ship out at sea. The dressmaker had managed to make the necessary alterations in time. Andy had showed up sober. The three-year-old ring bearer managed to make it up the aisle without dropping or swallowing the rings. Everything was perfect.<p>

Except for the fact that Ariel was pregnant.

And Eric still had no idea.

She had decided to wait until after the honeymoon to tell him. After all, why would she want to ruin what was supposed to be such a happy, carefree time with such burdensome news?

She's spent the past week trying to figure out how he was going to react. Perhaps he'd be happy. After all, it was expected that they would have kids eventually. They needed an heir, after all. But on the other hand, she wasn't sure if he had really expected to start having them when they were both so young and newly married.

She'd told Andy. Mainly because he had tried to convince her that as her best friend, it was his duty to make sure that the two of them got as drunk as possible together the night before the wedding and then—to quote him—"did something stupid like steal something or jump off something or hire a couple prostitutes to steal something or jump off something." When telling him that that was a superbly stupid idea didn't deter him, she decided she had no choice but to just tell him the truth.

So instead of getting drunk, the two of them had just laid on the floor of Andy's tower all night and did nothing at all.

It had been oddly comforting.

She and Eric honeymooned on a beautiful Greek island, and for two weeks she pretended that there was not a human being growing inside her. For two weeks she pretended there was nothing to worry about and she was just a carefree girl in love with a boy.

But the honeymoon ended much too quickly and all too soon they were back at the castle, the real world looming over them.

She finally told him the morning after they returned from Greece.

"Eric," she murmured, as they lay in bed, neither in any hurry to go down to breakfast. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Mmmm…?"

She took a deep breath and blurted it out before she had a chance to get scared and change her mind. "We're going to be parents."

He sat up and was out of the bed quicker than she thought possible. "What the hell do you mean?" he snarled.

She froze. Out of all the way she thought he might react, she had hoped and prayed it wouldn't be like this. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I'm, um, at least two months along."

"I'm not ready to be a father," he said coldly.

"And I'm not ready to be a mother!" she exclaimed. "But this is happening, Eric. We might as well make the best of it."

"It doesn't have to," he replied.

She felt bile rising up in her throat. Did he mean what she thought he meant? "Absolutely not," she whispered. "I'm having this baby, Eric."

"Fine!" he snarled. "But it better be a boy!"

He turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him before she had a chance to even consider what he would do if she had a girl.

* * *

><p>A baby!<p>

A fucking baby!

That stupid fucking whore was pregnant with a stupid fucking baby!

Eric stormed down the corridor, cursing under his breath. The next step in his plan was supposed to happen in a couple days, on the 7th of July, Ariel's birthday. A year ago, on that exact date, the Sea Witch had come ashore and they had made a deal that led to Ariel getting her legs. He'd told her to return in a year for the next step. If he was going to conquer the mer-kingdom, he needed something from Ariel. And the Sea Witch could get it for him. Now the day when that was finally going to happen was practically here, after twelve months of getting Ariel to trust him and fall in love with him and marry him.

And she was pregnant.

And he wasn't sure if the next step was going to work anymore.

Well, that wasn't true. It would still work. It had just gotten a lot more complicated.

He slumped up against a wall, burying his face in his hands as he tried to collect his thoughts. He was just going to have to go through with it anyway. He had come too far. He didn't want to put things off any longer.

He shouldn't have snapped at her the way he did. He needed her to trust him for a little while longer. He'd spent too long convincing her that he was someone he wasn't. He'd put in far too much effort for his true colors to come shining through now and ruin things.

He'd have to go and apologize. Convince her that everything he said was simply because he was scared of becoming a father.

After all, it was slightly unreasonable that all his anger be directed towards her anyway. She hadn't knocked herself up.

He sighed. Maybe he'd go get some breakfast first.

* * *

><p>Ariel couldn't stop crying. Everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong. For the first time, she felt actual, real regret about leaving her home behind and becoming human—the kind of regret that was buried deep down in a person's soul, eating away at them until there was nothing left.<p>

She'd left to find freedom and explore the world. She hadn't left to wind up married and pregnant and stuck in a castle before she had even turned 17.

If she had wanted that, she could have just stayed where she was.

She probably would have even been happier then she was now.

Because she'd still have her family.

Because there was no way Marsious would ever react the way Eric just had.

Because even though she knew she loved Eric, she still wasn't sure if she loved him more than she had loved Marsious.

How had she lost track of what she wanted so easily? She'd left Marsious because she'd decided a boy could never be as important as living out her dreams.

But somehow she'd let that happen anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter was kind of short. Sorry about that. But it was still pretty eventful! Things are really heating up! Leave me a review and tell me all your thoughts and predictions!<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

Ariel wasn't sure why she forgave Eric so easily for his reaction to her pregnancy. He came back into her room and told her that he hadn't meant any of it, that he'd just been caught off guard by the news, that he was sorry, that he was glad they were having a baby together, blah, blah, blah. She'd barely been listening, honestly. But she told him that she understood, that everything was fine, that she forgave him, blah, blah, blah. She said all the right things, because they'd only just returned from their honeymoon the night before. She could hardly let their marriage crumble before it had even started. So when he pushed her back onto the bed, she let him fuck her. She tangled her fingers in his soft hair and dutifully moaned his name. And when he grunted out his release and collapsed on top of her, she didn't push him away, even though he was sweaty and she kind of wanted to.

* * *

><p>The next day was her seventeenth birthday. She woke up to Eric kissing her neck.<p>

"Happy birthday," he murmured sweetly as she sat up and yawned. He held out a small box. "I know you're going to like your gift."

She took the box and lifted the lid. It was a topaz necklace. She'd seen it in a shop while they were on their honeymoon in Greece and had remarked to Eric that she loved the color of the stone. It reminded her of the sea.

"It's beautiful, Eric," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"Put it on," he urged.

"I'm wearing a nightgown, Eric. It would look silly."

"Then take the nightgown off," he suggested, smiling suggestively. "I bet you'd look amazing wearing _only_ that necklace."

It must have been her pregnancy hormones making her crazy because, unlike the night before when sex with her husband had practically disgusted her, that morning Ariel couldn't get him undressed fast enough.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, he told her that he had some important business to take care of.<p>

"But it's my birthday," she whined.

"I know," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "But I'm the king, Ariel. Some things just cannot wait, even for my beautiful queen."

"Fine," she grumbled. "You'll be back in time for dinner though, right?"

"Of course," he said, giving her one last kiss before disappearing from the dining room.

Ariel sighed and slumped down in her seat. She was alone on her birthday. If only Andy wasn't away at school. She missed her best friend.

* * *

><p>Eric could barely contain his glee as he slipped out the front doors of the castle. Today was the day! The next step in his plan was finally coming to fruition.<p>

The Sea Witch was standing at the edge of the ocean, gazing out over the vast expanse of water she called home. She had once again transformed herself from a centuries old tentacled creature into a stunning young woman who went by the name Vanessa.

She turned around to face him as he approached, her lips curling into a seductive smile. "There's my handsome prince," she purred. "I've been waiting for you."

"Not long, I hope," he said, kissing her hand. "And I'm a king now, actually."

She cocked an eyebrow and looked him up and down slowly. "Is that so?"

He nodded, unable to pull his gaze away from her. She was as gorgeous as he remembered, perhaps even more so. The hem of her tight blue dress flapped in the wind, teasing him with a view of her long legs. He wanted to tangle his hands in her thick, dark hair and listen to her raspy voice moan his name.

Eric had been with a lot of women, as well as a few men. But Vanessa had been, without a doubt, the best he'd ever had.

"So you need a little something from your wife?" she said.

He nodded, entranced by her red lips as they formed her words.

Vanessa's smiled, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on him. She produced a small vial of clear liquid and handed it to him. "She'll need to drink this. It'll make her fall into a deep sleep. It'll most likely last until morning. While she sleeps, she'll release what you need." She held out another vial this one empty. "Catch it with this. Make sure you get everything, that's very important. Once that vial is full, meet me back here. I'll explain what else you must do then. "

Eric took the other vial barely able to hide his excitement. This was finally happening. Soon he will be able to prove the existence of mermaids and gain control over the entire mer-kingdom. He would go down in history as the most powerful king that ever lived.

"That little mermaid princess is going to give you everything you need, Eric," the Sea Witch murmured. "I can guarantee it."

"She's a queen," Eric muttered absentmindedly, examining the vial of clear liquid. "Remember?"

"Oh no," Vanessa said with a laugh. "I didn't mean of your kingdom. I meant of hers."

Eric glanced up sharply. "What did you just say?"

"She may be a queen here. But underwater, she's still just a princess. King Triton's youngest daughter."

Eric could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was perfect! He knew he'd found himself a mermaid. But he hadn't known she was a princess too. Conquering her kingdom had just become 100 times easier. There was now absolutely no doubt that she would be able to give him exactly what he would need.

"That's the best news I've heard in a long time," he told Vanessa.

She smiled, taking a few steps closer to him. "So, Your Majesty, you a one-woman man now that you're married?"

He chuckled. "Well, I have to admit, it's just been her since we got engaged. But I've been busy. Being king takes a lot effort. So does planning the murder of your own father, but that's another story."

She closed the gap between them completely, standing on her toes to whisper in his ear. "You must be pretty bored fucking the same girl every single day. I think I can help with that."

He lifted the hem of her dress, slipping his hand between her legs. "I suppose Ariel could wait for just a little longer."

"That's good," Vanessa whispered. "Because I don't think I can."

Eric felt his pants tighten. He knew exactly what she meant.

* * *

><p>Eric found Ariel lying in her bed later that afternoon. "I'm back," he said, perching down on the edge.<p>

She didn't reply. It was clear she was still upset with him.

"I'm so sorry I had to leave you, darling," he said. "I won't do it again, I promise. I am yours for the rest of the day. What do you want to do?"

She shrugged, not looking at him.

"I bought you a glass of water and a sandwich," he said. "The kitchen staff told me you missed lunch."

"I'm not hungry," she grumbled.

The loud growl that her stomach let out only moments later made it clear she was lying. He lifted an eyebrow. "You're sure about that?"

"Fine," she snapped, sitting up and reaching for the tray he was holding. "But this to make our baby happy. Not you."

He stiffened. He'd almost managed to forget about the spawn that was currently growing inside his wife.

She took a few bites of the sandwich, as he watched, waiting impatiently for her to take a drink. He had, of course, added the clear liquid to her water.

"Take a drink of water, darling," he urged. "You must be thirsty."

She glared at him. "Stop pestering me, Eric. I'm not a child."

But, to his delight, she did as he suggested.

"That water tastes strange," she murmured, lowering the glass and turning to look at him. "Why does—?"

Before she had even finished her sentence, she had dropped the glass, sloshing water all down her front. Her eyes closed and she slumped over sideways, unconscious. Something wispy and smoke-like began to leak from her ears. Eric quickly grabbed the empty vial that Vanessa had given him and trapped the strange substance, making sure he got it all, just as the Sea Witch had instructed. He corked the vial and stood up, staring curiously at the contents swirling around inside. He could almost make out what looked to be the shadows of people and places, moving about inside.

He grinned widely as he exited the room, leaving his unconscious wife behind without a second glance.

Everything was going exactly as he wanted it to.

* * *

><p>The next morning, her eyes opened. She glanced around the room. Nothing looked familiar. Where was she?<p>

"Ariel, you're awake!" a man's voice said.

She turned her head, looking for the source of the voice. A handsome young man, with wavy black hair and blue eyes was sitting in a chair beside the bed. She didn't recognize him. Yet he seemed to know her.

"Ariel?" he asked, his forehead scrunching up with worry. "Darling, are you all right? You were unconscious for quite a while there. Gave me quite the scare."

"Who's Ariel?" she asked, confused. "Am I Ariel?"

The man's expression grew even more alarmed. "Of course you are."

"Oh," she murmured, sitting up. She clutched her head, feeling disoriented. "I…I don't remember."

"Don't remember what?" he asked, sounding panicked.

"Anything."

The man was quiet for what felt like a long time. "Anything…?" he finally echoed.

She shook her head, starting to feel a bit panicked herself. What was going on?

"You don't know who you are?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"You don't know who I am?"

"No."

"And none of this looks familiar?" he asked, gesturing around the room.

"No!" she snapped, growing a bit frustrated. "I don't remember _anything._ Now could you please tell me who you are?"

"I'm your husband," he said. "Eric."

Her eyes widened. She was married?

"Eric," she repeated, looking him up and down. This strange man was her husband. That meant she probably in love with him. But looking at him, she felt nothing. If he was really her husband, wouldn't she feel _something? _A spark? Something that indicated he was the man who apparently possessed her heart.

A horrible thought occurred to her. How did she know he was telling the truth? She didn't remember anything. He could literally be anyone. She had no way of knowing.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she muttered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I have a whole castle full of servants who will vouch for me," he replied. "If that's not good enough, I have an entire _kingdom_ of people to back them up."

"Are you saying...?"

He nodded. "I'm a king, Ariel. And you, my love, are a queen."

She glanced around the room. It _was_ beautifully decorated. There was a large chandelier from hanging from the ceiling and all the furniture looked expensive.

"We're in a castle right now?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

She clutched her stomach, suddenly feeling queasy. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"That's probably just morning sickness," he offered.

She froze. "What?"

"You're with child," he said. "Approximately two months."

She stared at him, suddenly unable to form her thoughts into words. This was all a horrible dream, surely. Soon enough she'd wake up and everything would be back to normal—whatever normal was. She'd be back in a life she recognized and knew. Because whatever she was currently in the midst of was _not_ her life.

How could she have a husband and a baby growing inside her and not remember any of it? How could she be a queen and live in a castle and not remember any of it?

She climbed out of the bed and hurried across the room to where a floor length mirror hung on the wall.

How could she not even recognize her own reflection?

The girl in the mirror was a stranger. A stranger with pale skin and long red hair and a sad expression. She looked so scared. So lost. So _young. _

"How old am I?" she asked.

"Just turned seventeen yesterday," the stranger named Eric who was apparently her husband replied. "You fell down some stairs and hit your head pretty hard. Not a very nice birthday present, huh? Luckily a doctor checked you out and said the baby is fine."

"Seventeen," she murmured. She was a seventeen years old and already married to a king with a baby on the way.

She didn't remember anything of the person she had once been. But she was already fairly certain she didn't like a lot of the decisions her old self had apparently made.

"Lay back down," Eric urged. "I'll get the doctor back here as soon as possible. We need to figure out if this is permanent or not."

She whirled around to face him. "You think this could be _permanent_?" she asked, unable to keep the hysteria from her voice.

"Lay down, love," he said softly. "Don't worry about anything. We'll get everything sorted out as quickly as possible.

He hadn't answered her question. She lay back down, staring up at the ceiling she didn't recognize.

What if she never recovered her memories? What if she permanently forgot the first seventeen years of her life?

Eric stood up, leaning over her bed and kissing her forehead. She squirmed out of the way. She wasn't ready to be kissed by a stranger, not even one who had apparently impregnated her.

As soon as he disappeared from the room, she began to cry.

* * *

><p><strong>So there you have it. Eric took her memories.<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

"I have to return home," Vanessa murmured, running her fingers through Eric's hair. "I can't stay any longer."

Eric rolled over, pinning her against his bed and gazing down at her. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he was quite sure of it. Of course, it was all a façade. Nothing about her appearance was real. But he found he didn't particularly care.

"No," he protested, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. "Stay."

"For how long?" she asked.

He was slightly repulsed when the first word that popped into his head when she asked this was 'forever.' Eric had never been in love, and that was certainly still true. But there was something about the Sea Witch that intrigued him. Perhaps it was the fact that she was the only person he'd ever met that reminded him a bit of himself. She was power-hungry and not afraid to do whatever it took to get her way. He supposed he respected her, something he couldn't say he'd ever felt for anyone else before—especially not a woman.

"I don't know," he replied instead. "Indefinitely?"

"I can't," she said with a sigh. "My powers weaken more and more the longer I stay on land." She lifted her hand, caressing his cheek. "I cannot be Vanessa any longer. I must return to the sea. I must once again be Ursula the Sea Witch."

"I'm not sure I can do everything without you," he muttered.

Bile rose up in his throat almost immediately after speaking the words. Had he really just admitted to feeling weakness? Out loud? To a woman?

"Of course you can," she replied. "What you must do is simple, although it might take you a while. Drink the vial with your wife's memories and they will become your own. It might take some time for you to sort through and understand them all, but eventually you will. You'll know where her kingdom is located. You'll know where the guards are stationed. You'll know almost all there is to know about her father, the king. You'll know his weaknesses. You'll know his secrets, at least the ones his daughter was privy to. When the time comes, you're knowledge of the mer-kingdom and its people will be so vast that you'll be able to conquer them with ease. You do not need my help. I have done all that I promised I would and that is enough. I have given you Ariel's memories and later on I will make sure you and your men are given the ability to breathe underwater so that your conquest is possible. In return, I have asked for one thing. King Triton's trident. It will give me control of all the seas." Her eyes narrowed for a moment. "If you do not keep up your end of the bargain, Your Majesty, you will be sorry. I can assure you of that."

Eric had no intention of not keeping up his end of the bargain. The Sea Witch would get her trident. He had no use for it. Once he had discovered the mer-kingdom and proven its existence to the human race, he was set. He would go down in history, never to be forgotten. After that, the Sea Witch could do as she wished. He had no desire to rule over the seas. He just needed control over the one kingdom.

"The trident will be yours," he murmured. "I swear it."

Her nails dug into his back as he entered her. He closed his eyes as they moved together, willing himself to forget that she was leaving, that she was barely even real.

He had never been in love.

In fact, he was quite certain he was incapable of love.

But this…this was certainly the closest he'd ever come.

* * *

><p>Ariel stood at the edge of the ocean, staring out at the vast expanse of water. There was something strangely comforting about it, like it was calling out to her, trying to tell her something about her past. In the castle, as large and as beautiful as it was, she had felt stifled and alone. And after several days of being cooped up there, with only the stranger who was her husband and a bunch of servants she didn't know to keep her company, she had needed to escape. And out here, on the beach, something felt right. It was familiar somehow, though she didn't know why. She was certain this beach or the ocean had been an important part of her past. She had no idea how she knew. But she did.<p>

Without even fully realizing what she was doing, she began to wade out into the water. She went farther and farther, deeper and deeper. It wasn't until she very nearly submerged that it occurred to her that she didn't know if she could swim or not, and just as that thought entered her mind a huge wave came crashing over her. She lost her balance and was pulled under. She frantically kicked her feet and flailed her arms, trying to pull herself back up to the surface. Her lungs begin to burn. Just as she'd nearly given up hope, she felt someone seize her by the arm and yank her up to the surface.

"You could have died," a male voice said a few minutes later, as she lay on her back on the sand, trying to regain her breath.

She squinted up at her rescuer. He towered above her, arms crossed over his chest. He was about her age with sandy colored hair and tanned skin. His eyes were perhaps his most notable feature. They were very nearly the same color as the ocean.

"I know," she muttered, sitting up and coughing profusely. "I…I couldn't remember if I could swim or not."

He frowned. "How could you not remember something like that?"

"Well, it's quite easy when I don't remember anything."

He tilted his head, studying her. "Wait a minute," he said slowly. "Are you the queen?"

She nodded. "That's what I've been told."

"You're all anybody's talking about," he said. "The king's new bride who tripped down the stairs, hit her head, and lost all her memories. The rumors are swirling, let me tell you."

"Lovely," she snapped, holding out her hand. "Help me up, will you?"

He smirked. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He pulled her to her feet, holding onto her hand for a bit longer than was necessary until she yanked it away.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Flynn," he replied.

"Well, thank you, Flynn," she said. "I suppose you saved my life."

"I suppose I did, Your Majesty."

"Call me Ariel," she said. "I've been told it's my name."

"It's a pretty name," he said.

"I suppose so," she said with a shrug. "It doesn't feel like it belongs to me though."

"Perhaps you'd prefer a nickname," he suggested.

"I don't think there're really any nicknames for Ariel."

"Ari?" he suggested.

Her forehead wrinkled in distaste. "Absolutely not," she said. "I _loathe_ it."

A grin spread across his face and she noticed for the first time how handsome he was. He was wearing a loose-fitting cotton shirt but because he'd been in the ocean, it clung to his torso, practically see-through. She quickly glanced away.

"I suppose I should be getting back to the castle," she said with a sigh.

"You don't sound too happy about it," he remarked.

"I hate it there," she replied bluntly. "Eric and everybody else keep referring to it as my _home, _but it's not. It's my home. It's too large and too drafty and full of servants who whisper about me when I walk past. And I'm seventeen years old and pregnant and stuck there with a husband I barely know and barely like."

She wasn't sure why she was telling him all of this. But once she started talking, she couldn't stop. It was nice to finally unload everything she had been feeling over the past few days onto someone else.

"You don't like the king?" Flynn asked.

She shrugged. "He's nice enough, I suppose. And certainly charming. But there's just something about him, something I can't exactly put my finger on. Like it's all a façade and underneath it all he's _not_ nice. Not at all."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Flynn murmured. "You deserve better than that."

"I suppose I must have loved him once," she said. "I just can't figure out why."

"Perhaps you'll grow to love him again," Flynn offered.

"I doubt it," she replied. "He'll disappear for hours and come back with wrinkled clothes and mussed hair, reeking of perfume. I don't think he even realizes that I know what he's been up to, but I'm not stupid. It's obvious. I may have lost my memories, but I'm not an idiot. And the thing is, I feel nothing. He's my husband. I should be jealous or angry. But I'm not. I honestly don't care what he does."

Her stomach growled and she sighed. "I haven't eaten anything in hours."

"I have food at my house," he said. "Well, it's more of a shack really. But if you don't want to go back to the castle yet…" He trailed off and shrugged.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer," she said. "Eric told me that he wants us to have dinner together this evening, but I don't particularly want to."

Flynn smiled at her then, almost fondly, and she felt her face heat up.

"Your face just about matches your hair right now," he said, still smiling.

If possible, she blushed even harder.

"Take me to your house," she commanded, in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "I'm about to die of starvation."

"You're a bossy little thing, aren't you?"

"Well, I _am_ apparently a queen," she said haughtily. "I may not like it, but I might as well take advantage of it."

"I live right over there," he said, gesturing towards a small wooden shack that stood in patch of tall grass near where the sand of the beach petered out. "It's no castle, but it's home."

"I like it," she said, as they began to walk. "It has charm."

"I guess that's one way to put it," he said with a laugh. "A piece of shit is how I usually phrase it."

"You usually use that kind of language in front of girls?" she teased.

"I don't have much of a filter," he admitted.

"I only have a few days' worth of memories, but I'm fairly sure that I don't either," she said.

"I'm _completely_ sure that you don't," he said, as they arrived at his door. He pulled it open and gestured for her to go in before him. "Ladies first."

She stepped inside and looked around. The entire shack was one room. It had a wood burning stove, a small table with two chairs, a wooden cabinet, two twin-sized beds, and not much else.

"I was just going to make some stew for dinner," he said. "Is that alright with you?"

She nodded.

"You can eat this while I make it," he said, setting a loaf of bread on the table. "It's, um, a bit stale. I don't have any butter either. But you won't starve to death waiting for the stew."

She sat down in one of the rickety wooden chairs and tore a chunk of bread from the loaf. "I'm sure it's fine. Thank you."

The bread was indeed very stale, but she was hungry enough that she ate nearly half the loaf, her mouth watering as a delicious smell began to fill the room.

"It smells wonderful," she said, as he ladled the stew into two bowls and handed one to her.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Let's just hope it tastes as good as it smells."

"Do you live here alone," she asked, as they began to eat. "I noticed there were two beds…"

"The other belongs to my father," Flynn replied. "He's a fisherman and he's often out at sea for months at a time. My mother died a couple years ago, so a lot of the time it's just me here by myself."

"That must get lonely," she said.

He shrugged. "I suppose so."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen."

"Me too."

"And already married to a king with a baby on the way?" he remarked. "That's…impressive."

She sighed. "It's certainly_ something_."

"The rumor mill is all abuzz about you," he remarked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest as he appraised her.

"What are they saying?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"Some people think you threw yourself down those stairs."

Her mouth fell open. "Why in the world would they think that?"

He shrugged. "Some people think you were trying to kill yourself, which seems implausible to me. Who attempts suicide by throwing themselves down a staircase? I mean, use a cliff, for god's sake."

It was probably an inappropriate thing to laugh about, but she couldn't help it. "That wouldn't have been too smart of me, I must admit."

His face grew a bit more serious. "Some people think you were trying to cause a miscarriage," he said quietly. "There are…some suspicions that you got pregnant before the wedding."

"Well, I've been married for three weeks," she said. "And I've been told I'm a little over two months pregnant. So those suspicions are correct. I cannot confirm or deny that I was purposefully trying to kill my own baby. I'd like to think that I wasn't, but I have no idea what kind of person I used to be."

"I'm sure you weren't," he murmured softly. "I shouldn't have said anything. The rumors are all ridiculous. Forget everything I said."

She took her last bite of stew and stood up. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious. I even enjoyed the stale bread."

"Are you leaving?"

"I should really be getting back to the castle. The king will be wondering where I am."

"Will I see you again?"

She smiled. "I hope so. I could use a friend. I have no idea who my friends were before, or if I had any at all. I've tried to strike up conversation with my lady's maid while she's dressing me, but she's a bit monosyllabic. The only thing I managed to get out of her was that she likes cats, and even that was a struggle."

He stood up, extending his arm across the table. "Friends?"

"Friends," she confirmed, shaking his hand.

He smiled at her. "It was nice to meet you, Ariel."

"It was nice to meet you too, Flynn."

* * *

><p>Eric burst into Ariel's room that night just as she about to get into bed, looking angry.<p>

"You missed dinner!" he snapped. "I waited for you to show up for ages. When I finally gave up, my lobster was cold."

"Sorry," she muttered. "I ate with a friend."

"You told me that you'd eat dinner with me," he said. "When a queen makes a promise, she keeps it."

"I don't particularly care what queens do!" she snapped. "I didn't ask to be one!"

"You did when you married me!"

"I don't remember that!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "And, quite frankly, I wish I never had!"

He stared at her for a few long seconds, breathing rather heavily. She waited for his angry retort, but it never came. Instead of responding, he simply closed the gap between them, crushing his lips to hers.

"Get off!" she screeched, shoving him away. "I don't want to kiss you, Eric. I thought I made that clear."

"Come on, Ariel," he said. "We're married. There's things we're expected to do, things you used to enjoy." He gestured toward her stomach. "The evidence of that is growing inside you right now."

"Go away," she growled. "I'm tired and I want to sleep."

"Fine," he replied. "But before I go, I should tell you that my brother Andy is returning home from school tomorrow. He only needed a couple more classes to graduate, so he figured he might as well get them over with this summer and graduate a year early. The three of us _will _be having dinner tomorrow evening. I will hunt you down and drag you to the dining room myself if you don't show up."

"I'll be there," she said. "I'm curious to meet this brother of yours."

"He's an alcoholic who spends most of his time moping around because the girl he loves dumped him."

"He sounds lovely," she replied sarcastically. "I can't wait."

"Glad to hear it."

And with that, he was gone.

Ariel sighed heavily as she climbed into bed, praying, just as she had done the last three nights, that when she woke up this would all be revealed to be a long, twisted nightmare.

* * *

><p><strong>So just a couple things:<strong>

**One, Flynn has nothing to do with Flynn from Tangled, obviously. They just happen to have the same name.**

**Two, I'm trying to make Ariel seem more like how she was in the beginning of the story. Before she came up to land, she was kind of loud and opinionated and not afraid to speak her mind. Sometimes she was a little mean, a little bitchy. She and Marsious were always butting heads. She was very headstrong. I'm not entirely sure how to describe it, but hopefully you know what I'm talking about. I purposely mellowed her out and made her a bit more timid when she left her home because she was in a completely strange new land that she knew nothing about and she trying to figure out how to be human and survive basically But now she remembers nothing. And to me, it would only make sense that she would sort of return to her roots and go back to being exactly who she is because she doesn't know any differently and that's really all she has left. She doesn't like Eric much because I don't think the Ariel from the story would like Eric much. She fell in love with him because she was thrown into this completely new life and he was there for her and offered her a home and an opportunity. But she remembers none of that. The connection she once felt they had is gone. **

**That was a bit long and rambing, and I have no idea if it made any sense. But I hope it did!**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

Dinner the following night was a mostly silent affair. Eric, who sat at the head of the table, spent most of the evening glowering at Ariel, who was still refusing to have much of anything to do with him, while she glared right back. Andy, who had arrived back only a couple hours before, spent the meal attempting to engage either of them in conversation. When this failed spectacularly, he too began to eat in silence, speaking only when it was to ask the footman to refill his wine glass a bit too many times.

Ariel wasn't sure what to make of her brother-in-law, other than Eric seemed not to have been exaggerating when he referred to him as an alcoholic.

The way he had greeted her upon his arrival to the castle had seemed a bit…_inappropriate_. She wasn't sure how close she and Andy had been before she lost her memories, but surely she would not have been okay with her husband's brother hugging her that tightly and whispering "Miss me, doll?" in her ear. When she had pulled back, slightly aghast, he simply frowned and said "You really don't remember anything, do you?" She wasn't completely sure what that meant, but the whole encounter had made her slightly uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>Andy caught up with as she heading back to her bedroom after dinner.<p>

"Ariel, wait!" he called, running after her down the long corridor. "I need to talk to you."

She stopped walking, turning to face him. "Yes?" she said, a bit warily.

He'd been drinking. They were alone in a dark hallway. She knew nothing about him. It was enough to set her on edge.

"I've always hated this tapestry," he said, gesturing toward the large image on the wall they were standing in front of.

She glanced at it. It clearly depicted some sort of battle from the Middle Ages. There were knights on horses, wielding swords and shields. Men lay dying on the ground, blood pouring from their wounds. In the distance, a castle stood towering in the distance. It wasn't the one they were currently standing in, which told Ariel that the tapestry was depicting a battle that Reissa had fought in a foreign kingdom.

"It's quite bloody," she agreed.

"It is," Andy said, "but that's not why I hate it." He pointed to the corner of the tapestry, to a part Ariel hadn't before noticed. Away from the violence of the battle, a knight was pinning a woman to the ground, one hand roughly pulling her hair while the other hand tore away her clothes. The woman's mouth was open in mid-scream, no doubt calling for help that would probably never come.

"That's one of our knights," he said. "He's supposed to be on the good side…" He trailed off, looking lost in thought.

"Why are you showing me this?" Ariel asked quietly.

He shrugged, pulling his eyes away from the grotesque sight. "We were standing in front of it."

"This what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Yes. I don't know. I just wanted to talk to you. About anything, really."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend," he said. "I know you don't remember me, but I do remember you. And I missed you. You're my best friend, Ariel. And I was yours."

She stared at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

"Did Eric know that?" she asked.

"Of course," Andy replied.

"He never said," she murmured. "I wish he would have. Didn't he think that I might want to know who my friends are?"

Andy shrugged. "My brother doesn't always do a very good job thinking about other people, Ariel. He gets caught up in his own world, I think, and forgets anyone else exists."

"I don't think I like him much," Ariel murmured. She immediately regretted the words. Telling Andy something like that was different than telling Flynn—the boy from the beach. Andy was Eric's brother. She didn't know how close they were or how much they told each other. What if Andy mentioned to Eric what she had just said? Would it even matter? Her husband probably already knew anyway.

"Don't tell him I said that," she added quietly. "Please."

He grinned at her. "I would never."

"Thank you," she said, relieved.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and they both turned to see a maid walking toward them, holding a broom and dustpan and humming to herself. Her eyes widened briefly when she noticed them—the pregnant queen and her husband's brother, alone in the dark shadows of the castle. She quickly lowered her head and hurried past.

"Do you want to go somewhere else and talk?" Andy asked. "We don't have to, but I figure we probably have a lot to catch up on."

She smiled. "Yeah, that'd be nice actually."

He took her to the room atop the highest tower in the castle, explaining that the two of them used to hide out there all the time together. It was a small, empty room that used to house prisoners before their executions. Dark and dank and dusty, it didn't seem like much until you looked out the window and took in the breathtaking view of the night sky and the ocean, bathed in moonlight.

They talked nearly all night. He answered all the questions she had, told her about all kinds of things that had once been her memories but were now merely stories.

Eventually the conversation turned to Clarissa, the girl he loved.

"Something happened to her," he murmured, his eyes focused on a loose thread that hung from his shirt. "The way she screamed when I touched her, it was haunting, Ariel. I can still see the fear in her eyes. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I begged her to tell me, but she told me to leave. And I did. I think about that a lot, how I just left and went back to school and tried to pretend I didn't know that something awful had happened to her. Now it's been months since I've seen her and I don't know what to do. If I try to talk to her, she'll probably just slam the door in my face. But I don't know if I can live with myself if I don't at least try to figure out what happened to her."

Ariel shrugged helplessly. "I don't if I have an answer for you, Andy."

He leaned his head back against the cold stone of the wall and closed his eyes. "I know," he muttered. "Didn't expect you to."

Outside, Ariel could hear the chirping of crickets and the roar of the ocean. And there, inside this tiny room in the tallest tower, all she heard was Andy's steady breathing as he dozed beside her. For the first time since she'd woken up with no memories, she felt an extreme sense of comfort and belonging. For the first time, she thought maybe everything would be okay and maybe she would get through this.

* * *

><p>Waking up the next morning with the side of her face pressed up against the dirty stone floor and a spider crawling dangerously close to her head was, on the whole, a much different experience than the night before.<p>

She yelped, sitting up before the spider crawled into her hair and laid a million eggs. Her outburst woke Andy, who yawned loudly as he sat up, wiping a bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth. She looked at him—with his hair sticking up in every angle, the pattern of the stone floor pressed into his cheek, and a smudge of dirt streaked across his forehead—and burst out laughing.

"You don't look so good yourself, you know," he said with a chuckle, standing up and dusting himself off.

Ariel headed to her bedroom, ignoring slacked-jawed stares of several servants she passed along the way. Inside her room, her lady's maid was standing beside Ariel's empty bed, looking confused.

"Oh," she said, turning around as Ariel entered the room. "There you are, Your Majesty. I was confused when I came in and you weren't here, especially since you weren't here last night either when I came to undress you."

"It didn't occur to you that I might be perfectly capable of dressing myself?" Ariel asked.

The maid squinted at her. "You're wearing the same dress you were wearing last night, ma'am."

Ariel sighed. "Never mind. Just dress me, alright?"

Ariel had tried on several occasions to make conversation with her lady's maid, but she had failed each time. The girl had seemingly no interest in talking to her. In fact, Ariel was quite certain this was the most she'd ever heard her speak. She didn't even know her name! Which seemed utterly ridiculous. If someone saw you naked every day, shouldn't you at least know her name?

"Can you remind me what your name is?" Ariel asked, figuring she might as well make another attempt. "I don't think you ever properly introduced yourself to me after my, er, accident."

"Nellie," the girl replied, as she untied Ariel's dress and helped her step out of it.

"How long have you worked here?" she asked.

"Five years," she said. "I used to be a housemaid, but I got promoted to lady's maid when you married the king, on account of the previous queen's lady's maid said she didn't …" She stopped, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Didn't what?" Ariel asked.

"She said she didn't want to work for you," Nellie said quietly.

"And why is that?"

Nellie shook her head, helping Ariel into her dress. "I shouldn't say, ma'am."

"I insist."

Nellie sighed. "She said she didn't want to work for the…_the slutty, gold-digging peasant girl who wormed her way into the king's heart." _

"How flattering," Ariel said, as she sat down at her vanity table.

Nellie set to work brushing her hair. "I don't know if it's my place to say, but I think the things people say about you are horrid, ma'am."

"Thank you, Nellie," Ariel murmured.

In the mirror, a girl stared back at her. She had thick red hair and wide blue eyes and pale skin. There was a small mole right below her left ear and barely noticeable scar right above her lip.

The girl was a seventeen-year-old with less than a week's worth of memories.

The girl was practically a stranger.

"Do you think I did it on purpose?" Ariel whispered. "Do you think I threw myself down those stairs like everybody is saying? Or do you think I just tripped?"

"I don't know, ma'am," Nellie replied. "I truly don't."

* * *

><p>"Good evening, Ariel," Eric said, as the two of them walked into the dining room for dinner that night.<p>

"Good evening," she muttered back, taking her seat. "Where's Andy?"

Eric rolled his eyes. "I see you two have rekindled your…_comradeship_."

"Is that a bad thing?" she snapped, already annoyed with him. "Do you wish me to remain friendless?"

"No," he said slowly, drawing out the word. "But you can't expect me to be happy that my_ wife_ enjoys spending time with my brother more than me."

"Well, maybe it's because you're an insufferable jackass!" she hissed.

He scowled at her, but didn't reply.

The footman set a bowl of stew down in front of her, and she reached for her spoon, eager for an excuse to end the conversation.

"Ariel," Eric snarled, "do not eat that!"

She dropped her spoon, startled. "Excuse me?"

Eric turned to the footman. "Can you explain to me what kind of head trauma our cooking staff recently collectively suffered from?"

The footman's eyes widened. "I don't…I don't…"

"Because I can't think of any other reason that they would prepare oyster stew when they know full well that my wife is allergic to shellfish!" Eric snapped. "She could have died!"

The footman looked frightened. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I…I..I'll just…"

"Go downstairs and get the next course," Eric said, his voice calm but terrifying. "And take this stew with you."

The footman nodded, grabbing both bowls and hurrying toward the door.

"You can the head chef that I will be coming down later to have a little talk!" Eric shouted after him. "This was unacceptable!"

"Oh my," Ariel murmured.

"Sorry about that," he muttered. "I don't know how we managed to hire such incompetent idiots to prepare our meals."

Ariel studied him. His face was flushed, his fists slightly clenched. He looked genuinely angry that something bad had almost happened to her. For the first time, it occurred to her that although she didn't much like him, he must like her (maybe even love her). After all, he _had _married her. Perhaps she'd been too harsh with him. It couldn't be easy, having a wife who didn't remember him or any of the moments they had once shared together.

"I can't believe you knew I'm allergic to shellfish," she said.

He looked at her strangely. "Of course I know that," he said. "You're my wife."

"It's just odd," she said, "that you know more about me than I know about myself."

He shrugged. "I suppose so."

"What's my favorite color?" she asked.

"Purple," he replied without hesitation.

That was right. She loved the color purple.

"But you're afraid to wear too much of it," he added softly, looking her straight in the eye, "because you think it clashes with your hair."

Her heart sped up. Somehow, the energy in the room seemed more charged than before.

"What else do you know about me?" she asked.

"You have a beautiful singing voice, but you're very shy about singing in front of most people," he said. "You hate dancing. You love the beach. You have six older sisters. Your mother died when you were young. You used to miss your family a lot, but you had to leave because you felt stifled." He smiled at her, a bit wistfully. "You kissed me first."

She opened her mouth to say something, although what she didn't know, but before she could get anything out, Andy entered the room and plopped down in his chair.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I got…whoa…" He stopped talking, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"What?" Ariel asked.

"You two want me to leave?"

"Why would we want you to leave?" Eric snapped.

"There is some serious tension in this room right now. For a second I thought you two were just going to go for it right here on the table."

"Andy!" Ariel gasped. "That's vulgar!"

He shrugged. "I'm just calling it as I see it, sweetheart." He glanced around. "Where's the food?"

"Right there," Eric said, gesturing toward the footman who had just entered the room. "We're skipping the first course tonight. The kitchen staff apparently has it out for Ariel."

"You know what?" Andy said, eagerly reaching for his fork. "I'm not even going to ask."

* * *

><p>"Goodnight, Ariel," Eric said, as they approached her room later that night. "I would ask if I could stay, but I figure it's pointless. You've made it quite clear that you don't want me to."<p>

She nodded. "Goodnight, Eric."

He turned, heading down the corridor to his own room. She should have been happy. He had finally gotten it through his thick skull that she didn't wish to be intimate with him. She should have gone into her room and fallen asleep. But instead, she found herself thinking about all those things he had said at dinner, the way he had looked at her, the way he made her heart speed up.

"Eric, wait!" she called, just as he was about to disappear around the corner.

He turned back around. "What?"

"Are you in love with me?" she asked, feeling quite silly.

He cocked his head, studying her. "I'm quite fond of you," he said. "And it would make me quite happy if you would be my wife again."

"I've never stopped being your wife."

"You know what I mean," he said quietly.

She opened the door to her room. He stayed put, watching her. She glanced over her shoulder. "You coming or not?"

A smile spread across his face and he followed her inside. She closed the door behind them.

* * *

><p>Eric was relieved that he no longer had to use those dreadful three words—<em>I love you—<em>with Ariel. Before, when he'd wanted her to marry him, they had been necessary. She wasn't the type of girl to marry someone who didn't love her. But now, things were different. She didn't love him, not like she'd once believed she had. She didn't even particularly like him. Saying that he loved her would probably just scare her off. No, if he wanted to get back into her good graces, the best thing for him to do was prove that he liked her and that he knew her, nothing more and nothing less. And judging from the fact that she had just invited him to spend the night in her room, it had worked.

He hadn't been lying when he had said he was fond of her. He _was_ fond of her, at least as fond as he was capable of being. There were much worse girls out that there that he could have gotten stuck with. She was pretty. She wasn't clingy. And he still hadn't gotten tired of having sex with her. She was the only person in the world he'd ever slept with on such a regular basis. Normally he got bored rather quickly. But he hadn't gotten bored of Ariel.

Plus, she had given him everything he'd ever dreamed of, albeit not knowingly. He now possessed her memories, which meant he practically possessed a key to the mer-kingdom, an open invitation to come in and take it all.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	21. Chapter 21

Andy knew that Clarissa's parents always took tea at the Lord and Lady Bradbury's house every Thursday afternoon, so he chose that time to pay her a visit. He hadn't seen her in months and months, not since he'd drunkenly shown up at her house after his parents died.

He wasn't sure if she'd even open her bedroom window when he tapped on the glass, or if she'd simply draw the curtains and walk away. He still remembered her scream. He still remembered the way she had looked at him with terror in her eyes as she told him to leave. It had been nearly a year and it was still ingrained in his mind.

But to his surprise, she did open the window.

"Andy," she murmured, as he climbed inside. "What are you doing here?"

"It's been ages since I've seen you," he said, staring down at his shoes. "And I missed you." He lifted his head, finally looking her in the eyes. "Didn't you miss me?"

She stared back at him for what felt like ages, until he had begun to think that maybe he shouldn't have come at all.

"Of course I did," she finally whispered. "My dreams are often nightmares, Andy. But on the rare occasions that they aren't, I dream of you."

He walked over her bed, perching on the edge of it. After a moment's hesitation, she came and sat down to him.

"I know something terrible happened to you," he said. "And I wish you'd trust me enough to tell me about it. I know it must be painful to talk about, but I wish you'd at least try. I can't bear the thought of you suffering by yourself a moment longer. Let me in, Lissa. Please."

She buried her face in her hands, and his heart shattered. "Go away, Andy," she muttered, her voice muffled.

"Lissa…" He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.

"Why don't you just go running back to Virginia Ashworth?" she said, lifting her head. There were tears welling up in her eyes, and her voice was shaky. "I'm sure she can't wait to marry you and become a princess."

"Virginia Ashworth has nothing to do with this! Lissa, I can't bear this any longer. Just tell me the truth."

"_You _can't bear it?" she shrieked. "Well, I'm so sorry that everything I've been through is causing _you_ so much pain. I can't imagine what you've been going through. Really, it must have been unbearable. Hopefully I never get hurt again. I wouldn't want _you_ to suffer anymore because of it."

"That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed. "I love you, Clarissa, and more than anything I want to be able to help you through this. I don't care how long it takes. I just can't stand by and let you suffer without doing something. Please."

"I am broken, Andy," she whispered. "I am broken into a million pieces. I don't know how long it'll take to glue me back together, but you'll grow bored before then, I know it. You'll grow bored and you'll leave."

"That's not true," he said. "I'm yours forever, Clarissa. I always have been. All you have to do is say the word and I'll never leave you again."

"I was raped," she said quietly.

Even though he already knew this was probably the case, the words still felt like a knife through his heart.

"Who did it?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, not responding.

A horrible thought occurred to him. He remembered over a year ago, when she had ended things between them. Afterwards, Eric had told him that she had tried to seduce him the evening before and that he had rejected her advances. Had Eric been the one who had raped her? Is that why she had ended their relationship?

"Was it…was it my…?" He struggled to form the words.

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't anyone you know. It wasn't even anyone I know. It was a stranger that I happened upon when I was walking home after leaving the castle. He…he pulled me into a dark alley and it happened. I didn't even get a good look at his face. The next day I broke things off with you. I didn't want to, but I had to. Being touched, even in the slightest way—I just couldn't…I still can't…That man…He ruined me for everyone else. He ruined me for you. Are you sure you want to be with me, Andy? I don't know when I'll be able to touch you without flinching. It might be a long time."

Relief washed over Andy. It hadn't been Eric. But why would he have said those things about Clarissa? Perhaps he had just misconstrued something she had said. Andy wouldn't be surprised. When you were as self-involved as Eric was, someone asking you how your day was probably sounded dirty. He pushed all thoughts of his brother out of his head.

"That's fine, Lissa. I don't mind. I'm here for you and I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled at him. "I love you, Andy. I never stopped."

His heart soared. It was only the second time he'd ever heard those words come out of her mouth. It had been so dreadfully long since the first time. What a relief it was to hear them again.

* * *

><p>Virginia Ashworth was standing in front of her mirror, posing in a large, ostentatious hat, when Andy stepped into her bedroom.<p>

She turned, removing the hat and placing it back in its box. "I got your presents," she said, waving her hand in the direction of a stack of boxes piled beside her, filled with dresses and hats and jewelry.

"I didn't think you'd like very much if I came back from school—after months of not seeing you—and didn't shower you with gifts," he said.

"Well, you're right about that," she said. "I do love being pampered."

He smiled at her fondly. She really was something else. She hadn't even said thank you. With anyone else, it would be insufferable. But she managed to make it charming.

"Ginny, darling," he said. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Is that so?" she said, pulling a ruby necklace from its velvet box. "Help me fasten this, will you?"

He did as she commanded.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked, as she examined her reflection in the mirror, thrusting out her chest and turning from side to side.

"It's about Clarissa."

Virginia managed to pull herself away from her own reflection, and turned around to look at him. "Is she finally taking you back?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Well, I have to admit that I'll miss you, darling," she said, turning back around and removing the necklace. "You were fun to flirt with, and I liked the idea that I might one day be a princess."

"I'm sure you can still manage it, if you set your heart to it," he said. "There are plenty of other kingdoms out there, with princes looking for pretty wives. Maybe you'll even find one who's next in line for the throne. Then you'll get to be queen. Because let's face it, if anyone was meant to be a queen, it's you."

"You know, I think I may have already found myself a future king," she said. "I met him at a ball a month ago. Prince Edgar of Cerravia. Do you know him?"

"I know of him," Andy said. "I think we may have met once, a few years back, but I don't recall much about him."

"He told me that if I'm ever in Cerravia, I should stop in at his palace and see him. And he kissed me goodnight, even though there was this vile girl—a daughter of some duke—vying for his attentions."

"Just don't go back to Timothy Dewitt," Andy said. "Even if things don't work out with this future king of yours and you can't find another one, don't go back to _him_."

"I'm not meant to be an old maid, Andy," she said with a sigh. "If no one but Timothy Dewitt will have me, then I will marry him. He may not be a prince, but he's rich and comes from a good family."

Andy stared at her, trying to figure out someone how thought so highly of herself could simultaneously think so little of herself. He tried to think of something to say in response, but she already back to sorting through the boxes. Opening a large striped one and brushing aside the tissue paper, she pulled out a beaded handbag.

"It's exquisite," she said, as she turned it over in her hands, examining it.

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" he asked.

"I never say thank you for things I know I deserve," she said, her tone dismissive.

He gaped at her. The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a smile. "That was a joke, darling."

He chuckled. "It's hard to tell with you."

"Thank you," she said. "You're a doll, Andy. I wish you and Clarissa every happiness."

"I wish you the same," he said, pulling out his pocket watch and glancing at the time. "I should go."

"Wait," she said, as he was turning to leave. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss?"

He hesitated. He knew he probably shouldn't. But she was batting her eyelashes at him all seductively, and really it was just one kiss. It wouldn't hurt anybody.

He nodded, and she crossed the room, pressing her lips against his.

"Wow," he said, after they had pulled apart. "You never kissed me like that before."

"I always save the best for last," she said, walking back over to her mirror. "I figured I'd show you what you'll be missing.

"You're such a tease," he said, smiling.

"I know I am," she replied, already distracted by her own reflection.

"Goodbye, Ginny," he said, turning to leave.

"Bye, Andy," she called after him.

* * *

><p>"Ariel!" Flynn exclaimed, opening the door to his shack. "What are you doing here?"<p>

Ariel had woken up that morning with Eric in her bed, their clothes scattered about, and had immediately felt bad about what she had done. She decided that she needed a friend to talk things over with, and Andy was nowhere to be found. She hoped he was off working things out with Clarissa.

"We're friends, aren't we?" she said, stepping inside. "And friends spend time together."

"Don't get me wrong," he said, "I'm pleased to see you. I just didn't expect it."

She sat down in one of his rickety kitchen chairs, and he slipped into the one across from her. "Is there a specific reason you're here?"

"I slept with Eric," she blurted out.

Flynn lifted an eyebrow. "A woman slept with her husband? Fetch me my smelling salts. I am scandalized."

"Don't mock me!" she said. "I feel really bad about it."

"And why is that?" he asked. "Was he bad at it?"

She gasped. "Flynn!"

"What? You're the one who started this conversation. Don't blame me for continuing it."

"It's just that I don't really like him, I don't think. I mean, he was being more tolerable last night, but…I still feel like perhaps I shouldn't have slept with him. I feel like a whore."

He laughed loudly. "Don't be ridiculous, Ariel. You're not a whore. You slept with _your husband_, for god's sake."

"But I don't like him…"

"So what?"

His question was so blunt that it threw her off for a moment. "Well, I…I…"

"Let's do something to get your mind off all this, how does that sound?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"When my father is away on his fishing boat for months at a time, it's up to me to make money for myself. Normally I just do odd jobs here and there. However, this week, I wasn't able to find any. And no money means no food."

"I don't have any money on me, if that's what you're asking," she said. "Maybe I can go convince the kitchen staff to give me a few things to bring back for you. I doubt they'd do it though, at least not without asking a bunch of questions."

"That's okay," he said, standing up. "This has happened to me before. I know how to deal with it. I just need you to accompany me to the market."

"Alright," she said uncertainly, unable to figure out what he had planned.

She followed him out of the house. They made small talk as they walked across the beach, and into town.

The market was bustling with activity. Ariel was sure she could stay there all day, just watching everyone go about their lives. But Flynn was clearly on a mission, and there was no time for her to linger and take it all in. He led her over to a fruit stand.

"Hello, Mr. Walsh," he said, smiling at the older, balding vendor.

"Hello, Flynn," the man replied. "What'll you be buying today?"

"Actually, I came to the market today for some other things," Flynn said. "But I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He gestured at Ariel. "And introduce you to my cousin, Isobel. She'd visiting me this week, all the way from Cerravia."

"Cerravia?" the man exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with delight as he turned to inspect Ariel. "That's where my grandpappy's from. Beautiful country. I wish I could visit more often."

"Yes, I do remember you saying something about that," Flynn said. He gently pushed Ariel closer to the man. "Why don't you two talk about that while I go fetch a few things?"

"I don't know anything about Cerravia," Ariel hissed in his ear.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered back. "Mr. Walsh is a talker. Just nod a lot."

So as Mr. Walsh was completely distracted, going on and on about agriculture in the highlands of Cerravia, Flynn grabbed apples and oranges and shoved them in a large, leather bag he had slung over his shoulder. Ariel watched out of the corner of her eye, wondering how Mr. Walsh could possibly be so oblivious.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Ariel said, as they walked away a few minutes later. "You're bolder than I could ever be."

Flynn was hardly listening to her. He had spotted a heavily pregnant woman selling baked goods. "Brilliant," he muttered to himself, veering off in her direction, leaving Ariel to hurry after him.

"Hello, ma'am," Flynn said with a friendly smile. "I couldn't help but notice that you're with child."

"Yes," the woman said, smiling as her hand moved to her stomach. "This will be my second."

"How lovely," Flynn said. He grabbed Ariel's hand and pulled her closer. "My wife here is pregnant with our first." He pointed at her stomach. "She's just starting to show, ever so slightly."

"Ah, yes, I can see that," the woman said, beaming at them.

"We don't really know too many people with children," Flynn said. "Our mothers have both passed. I'm sure my wife has a few questions. Would you be willing to talk to her, just for a few minutes?"

"Certainly!" the woman replied. "What do you need to know, my dear?"

As Ariel chatted with the woman about pregnancy, Flynn grabbed a few loaves a bread and a bit of cake. Ariel knew that she should probably feel guilty, taking advantage of these nice people, but she couldn't help but find it a bit thrilling all the same.

By the time they finally left the market, Flynn had managed to steal some vegetables and a bit of dried meat, as well.

"I hope you don't think too badly of me after that," Flynn said, as they approached his shack. "I don't normally do things like that. It's only when I'm desperate. I try to pay them back eventually, as best I can, without them realizing."

"We all have to eat," she said.

"That we do," he agreed, opening his door and waving her inside.

"Would you like to stay for supper?" he asked, following her in. "I'm making vegetable stew, which is what you had last time, I know. I'll understand if you don't want to. I'm sure they serve much fancier food up there at the castle."

"I like stew," she said, taking a seat at his table. "Especially yours. It was the most delicious meal I've ever had."

He grinned at her. "That's nice of you to say, even if I don't believe it."

They chatted all through the meal, and Ariel was stunned at how comfortable she felt with him. The conversation flowed so naturally and he made her laugh entirely too much.

"Are you sure we didn't know each other before my accident?" she remarked, as they were finishing up their stew. "It somehow feels as if I've known you my whole life."

"I'm absolutely sure," he replied. "But I know what you mean. I feel it to. It's like we're meant to be in each other's lives or something."

She stared at him for a long time, as his words sunk in. She agreed entirely. It was odd sensation, but he…he just felt _right. _

She reacted almost involuntarily in that moment. She didn't even realize fully what she was doing until she had stretched across the table and pressed her lips against his. He responded almost immediately, kissing her back enthusiastically. Kissing Eric the night before had felt nice, but this…this was different. This was much more than nice. This was fireworks going off in her stomach. This was the best she'd ever felt—at least in the week she actually remembered. This was pure, unadulterated _pleasure._

She pulled back, horrified at the realization of what she had just done. "Oh my god!"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm…I'm married!" she shrieked.

"So what?" he asked—the same blunt question as earlier.

"So, _I'm married_!" she exclaimed. I can't go around kissing other boys!"

"Normally, I'd agree," he said, lounging lazily back in his chair. "But you told me before that your husband's been sneaking off to be with other girls."

"That's true, but—"

"And you don't actually remember the vows you made to him," he continued.

"Yes, but—"

"And you certainly wouldn't make those vows again, considering you don't even like man all that much."

"I feel like you're a bad influence on me," she finally said. "Getting be to be an accomplice in your thievery. Getting me to kiss you even though I'm married."

"_You_ kissed _me_, Your Majesty," he said, smirking at her. "And you liked it. I saw the look in your eyes when you pulled away. You _loved_ it."

"It was okay," she lied.

He chuckled, clearly not believing a word of it.

"I should go," she said, standing up. "Thank you for the meal."

"When will I see you again?" he asked.

She was tempted to tell him never, but then she caught sight of the way she was looking at her—his ocean-colored eyes wide and sincere—and she felt slightly dizzy. "I...I don't know," she stammered. "Soon, I hope."

He smiled at her. "I hope so too."

* * *

><p><strong>So Andy and Clarissa are finally back together! But he still doesn't know the truth about Eric :(<strong>

**Please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**There's a bit of a time jump between the last chapter and this one, just in case it's not immediately obvious. It's not a big one or anything, but yeah...**

* * *

><p>"I hate being pregnant," Ariel groaned, plopping down on the marble floor of the castle's grand foyer and ripping off her shoes. "My feet are so swollen. Andy, make it stop."<p>

"Yes, I'll get right on that," Andy said, rolling his eyes. "Have you seen my magic wand around anywhere?"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

"Pregnancy is making you so pleasant, Ariel," he said, crouching down beside her. "Really, I wish I could spend more time with you when you're acting like this. Perhaps you can just sit in my room tonight while I'm trying to sleep and loudly complain about everything that's going wrong with your body. That would be lovely."

A couple maids walked by, their eyes widened when they saw Ariel, who had curled herself up into the fetal position, clutching her shoes to her chest. Ariel could hear their scandalized tittering as they disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

"What _would _the maids do for entertainment around here if they didn't have you to gossip about?" Andy asked.

"They gossip about you too," Ariel said, pulling herself back up into a sitting position. "And Eric. Have you heard the rumors they've come up with about all of us? Some of them are utterly ridiculous."

"I try not to listen too much to the gossip," Andy said. "It's pointless."

Ariel slipped her shoes back on and stood up. "Let's go," she grumbled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. "I have a million things I need to buy at the market."

"You know we have servants who can do your shopping for you, right?"

She grinned at him. "You say the same thing to me every week, Andy, dear. I've told you multiple times that I _enjoy_ going into town. It's fun."

"It is," he agreed.

They stepped outside and Ariel pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Summer was slowly fading away, and the weather had grown a bit too chilly for her liking.

Her feet still ached and she winched in pain. "I can't wait until this stupid baby is born," she muttered.

"That's a nice way to talk about your child. Shouldn't your motherly instincts have kicked in by now?"

"I don't think I have any," she confessed.

"I'm sure that's not true."

Ariel wasn't so sure. It had been about two months since she had awoken without her memories, meaning that she was around five or six months pregnant. And yet, the fact that she would soon have a child of her very own still hadn't really sunk in. The idea of a baby mostly just repulsed her. She was seventeen. She didn't want a baby. Did that make her awful person? Was she supposed to already love the not fully-formed _thing_ growing inside her? Because she didn't. She would never admit it out loud, but she honestly didn't. She felt no connection to it, none whatsoever. Whenever someone asked her what she planned on naming it, she just shrugged and said she hadn't settled on anything yet. But that was only because she hadn't even thought about it.

"So, how are things with you and my brother?" Andy asked, as they climbed into the carriage that would take them into town. Ariel didn't think her swollen feet could manage the walk anymore, which saddened her.

She rolled her eyes at him. He knew perfectly well how things between them were.

"Just peachy," she said sarcastically. "I don't think we've said a word to each other in a week."

"What a beautiful relationship the two of you have," Andy muttered, leaning his head back against the velvet seat of the carriage and gazing out at the ocean (or perhaps just at his own reflection in the glass).

"I met Virginia Ashworth a couple days ago when I was at a dress shop in town," Ariel said. "Did I tell you that already?"

"No, you didn't," he said. "How is she?"

"She doesn't seem too heartbroken, if that's what you're wondering," Ariel teased.

Andy rolled his eyes. "I should hope not. It's been two months since I ended things with her. Though I'm sure she was over it as soon as I walked out of her house."

"It seems a bit odd," Ariel remarked, "that the two of you never had any real feelings for each other. I know you're in love with Clarissa, but after meeting Virginia, I can't help but feel the two of you would make so much more sense. I suppose it just goes to show how strange and random love can be. You never fall for the type of person you think you will."

"What about Ginny makes you thinks she's better suited for me than Clarissa is?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "I don't know…Clarissa's such a sweet, lovely girl. And Virginia…Virginia is a very pretty girl, and she knows it. Something I think the two of you have in common."

Andy chuckled. "I'm a very pretty girl and I know it?"

"You know what I mean," she said. "Don't be an ass."

"You think I'm handsome, Ariel?" he asked, flashing her his most charming smile.

"The handsomest," she teased.

"More handsome than Eric?"

"I'd never admit it if he were here, but yes," she said, giggling. "I think so."

"I know you're only teasing me," he said, still grinning widely. "But I'm vain enough to still enjoy it."

An overwhelming wave of fondness for Andy washed over her. She was married to a man she didn't love and pregnant with a baby she didn't want. But at least she had her best friend.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. They were quiet for the rest of the ride into town.

* * *

><p>Eric stepped inside a dingy pub located down near the pier. It was the middle of the day, but it was still with men, mostly sailors on leave, unemployed veterans, and retired fisherman. He pulled the hood of his cloak farther over his face, not yet ready to be recognized, and walked over to the bar. He sat down on one the unoccupied stools and looked around.<p>

The men who came into a pub like this, especially this early in the day, were the kind of people a king should never be seen associating with. They were dirty and grimy and smelly—the lowest of the low. But Eric had been coming here for years. Not to drink, as one might assume. Other than wine at dinner and the occasional glass of champagne on special occasions, Eric had never been much of a drinker. That was Andy. No, this pub was one of the places he'd go while trying to figure out as much about mermaids as he could, in those few years between the time he had first learned of the existence of mermaids and the time when Ariel had become human. The sailors here certainly had stories, and some of them had been quite informative.

Today he was here for something more than just stories. He needed men. Sometime soon (in a few months, he hoped) he would use all the information he had gained from Ariel's memories for his conquest of the mer-kingdom. But he would not be able to do it all alone. He would need others. At first he wondered if he could simply use the kingdom's army. They were, after all, at his disposal. But then he had realized that there was really no way he could convince all those men that mermaids were real and they all to follow him to a magical kingdom under the sea. They would all think he was crazy. No, he was going to have to round up men himself—men who believed in mermaids and magic and all sorts of strange tales of the sea. And this pub was the perfect place to look. Especially in the middle of the day. Only the most desperate of men came to pubs in the middle of the day. And he needed desperate men. Men who had nothing to lose. Men without wives and children. Men who would risk their lives for a paycheck. Men who would risk their lives for a little adventure to spice up their miserable lives.

Eric finally spied a man he knew sitting alone in the darkest part of pub. His name was Schmitt and he was the captain of a fishing boat (or at least he had been once). He and Eric had worked together before. Eric had hired Schmitt and his crew to take him to meet the Sea Witch for the first time, over a year ago. Of course, the boat had capsized before they could make it to the island. If he hadn't been rescued by Ariel, he most likely would have died out at sea. Eric hadn't seen Schmitt since that day. He hadn't even been sure the captain had survived the sinking of his boat.

He stood up, weaving though the tables until he reached Schmitt. Eric dropped into the chair across from him and lowered his hood.

"Hullo, Your Majesty," the captain said, his voice low and gravely. "Long time, no see."

"I need your help, Schmitt," Eric whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure there was no one who could overhear their conversation.

The man leaned back in his chair, stroking the grizzled hair on his chin. "The last time I helped you, I lost my fishing boat in a storm," he said. "And that boat was my entire livelihood, mind you. I lost everything that day. I couldn't afford to buy another boat. I was forced into early retirement." He glanced around the pub. "I spend most of my days here now, slowly drinking myself to death." He redirected his gaze back to the Eric. "You could have bought me a new boat, don't you think? Considering I lost it on that little mission of yours. Or you could have at least sought me out and paid me the money you had promised me for my service."

"I promised you that money if you got me to the island and then took me home again. We didn't even make it to the island. I owed you nothing. You did not complete the service I paid you for."

"There was a terrible storm!" Schmitt exclaimed. "I could not prevent it!"

"Nor could I," Eric said coldly. "So I fail to see why you think I owed you a new fishing boat. It is not my fault you lost the first one. I control a great many things, Schmitt, but the weather is not one of them."

"All the same, Your Majesty, I'd rather not have anything to do with you anymore," said the captain, picking up his beer and taking a large gulp. He set it down, wiping his mouth off on his grimy sleeve. "If you could leave me in peace, I would be much obliged."

"If you help me," Eric said quietly. "I will make sure you get a new fishing boat. And money. Ten times what I offered you to take me to the island last year."

Schmitt's bushy eyebrows shot up into the air. He leaned forward in his chair. "I'm listening," he said. Eric could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"It's a long story," Eric warned.

"I have nothing but time."

"It's going to sound crazy."

"Any good story does."

"You believe in mermaids, don't you, Schmitt?" he asked.

The man nodded. "Ay, that I do."

"Well, I can prove they exist," Eric said. "That day your boat capsized, I was going to that island to meet with the Sea Witch—the one from all the old sailor's tales."

"I had a feeling about that," Schmitt said. "Which I thought was odd. Men like you are usually too logical to believe in things like mermaids and magic."

"I saw a mermaid when I was fifteen years old," he said. "Clear as day, with my own two eyes. I've believed ever since. And now, I'm married to that mermaid."

Schmitt's eyes went so wide that Eric thought they might pop out of his head. "Queen Ariel is a mermaid?"

"She used to be."

"My god," Schmitt muttered. "This is extraordinary."

Eric proceeded to tell him the rest of the story—about how he had come to possess Ariel's memories and his plan for conquering the mer-kingdom.

"When it's all said and done, I will have control over the entire kingdom. I will be able to prove the existence of mermaids. I will have access to all their wealth and knowledge. Scientists will be able to study them. Everything that human beings thought they knew about the world will have changed. I will go down in history as the greatest king of Reissa who ever lived. Don't you want to be a part of that, Schmitt?"

The man nodded. "Ay, that I do, Your Majesty."

"Good," Eric said. "Because you know far too much to be able to back out now."

Schmitt lifted an eyebrow. "What would you do to me if I decided not to go through with it?"

"I'd slit your throat," Eric hissed, deadly serious. "And I wouldn't lose a minute of sleep over it either."

"Well then," Schmitt said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. "I guess it's a good thing that I'm not going to back out."

"I'll be needing other men, of course," Eric said. "And I'll need your help rounding them up. Only tell people you trust. And make sure they all know what their fates will be if they back out or tell the plan to anyone who is untrustworthy."

"May I ask one last question?" Schmitt asked.

Eric nodded. "Certainly.

"How exactly will we be able to lead a conquest underwater? You didn't make that clear earlier."

"The Sea Witch owes me one last favor," he said. "She had the power to make sure we will be able to see and breathe properly under there."

"Excellent," Schmitt said. He glanced around the dimly-lit room. "I see one man sitting at the bar who I already know would be very keen to join our little adventure."

"Who?" Eric asked eagerly.

"Danny!" Schmitt called out. "Danny, m'boy!"

A blonde, muscular man turned around in his seat. His face lit up when he caught sight of Schmitt.

"Come over here!" Schmitt called.

Danny stood up and ambled towards them. He was tall, Eric noticed, and very handsome. A tug in his groin reminded him just how long it had been since he'd been with a man. The last one had been Charles, and well… it had been a year since Eric had shoved him off that cliff.

Danny stopped to talk to someone sitting a couple tables away. Eric pulled his gaze away from his biceps and looked at Schmitt. "Are you certain about this?" he asked. "Why would someone so young and strong want anything to do this? It's such a risk. Surely someone like him wouldn't be desperate enough?"

"Danny was dishonorably discharged from the navy last year. He never told me why, other than it had something to do with insubordinate behavior. Ever since then, he's had a hard time getting any work. He's a bit desperate for a paycheck, I can promise you that. Plus, I've known since he was born. He's my sister's boy, you see. He's always had an adventurous side. He'll be up for this."

They both fell silent as Danny finally reached them. He hovered awkwardly beside their table. "Hello, Uncle," he said.

"There's someone want you to meet," Schmitt said. "Danny, meet King Eric."

Danny's eyes widened. "Y-Your M-majesty," he stammered, dipping into a clumsy bow.

"I have a proposition for you," Eric said, waving him up. "Please sit down."

The man dropped into the seat beside him. As Eric explained everything to him, he couldn't stop his gaze from continuously dropping down to Danny's crotch.

_Shit. Shit. Shit_. Could he be more obvious? How the fuck did someone like Schmitt have such an attractive nephew anyway?

Towards the end of his explanation, after Eric practically had to drag his gaze back up to Danny's face, the two men made eye contact. Danny's expression was telling. He knew exactly where Eric had been looking. But he didn't look angry or disgusted. Instead, a slight smirk danced across his face.

_Dishonorably discharged._

_Insubordinate behavior._

Could it be…?

"I'd be happy to join your conquest, Your Majesty," Danny said, his voice low and gruff.

Eric bit his lip, having to stop himself from audibly groaning.

This was fucking embarrassing. But honestly, Ariel hardly ever even looked at him. The amount of effort he had to put into getting her to fuck him was almost not worth it. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Fucking Ariel was _always_ worth it. There were very few places he'd rather be than buried inside his wife, feeling her moving underneath him, moaning his name. But that was exactly why it was so disappointing that ever since she had awoken without her memories, she seemed to loathe him. Her distaste rubbed off on him, and the two of them spent most of their time arguing or ignoring each other completely. The nights when she let him into her bed were all too rare, and he was much too busy to seek out much other companionship. Which was why he was feeling so desperate for a little action from the handsome, former sailor sitting next to him.

"I have to be getting home," Schmitt said, standing up. "My landlady will wring my neck if I don't get her my rent by three o'clock today."

After he had left, Eric turned to Danny. "I'd love to talk to you more about the plans for the conquest, but I think it would be better if we went somewhere a little…quieter."

"I rent a room right above this pub," Danny offered. "We can go up there and _talk_, if you'd like."

Eric nodded. "I'd like that a lot."

The second that the door to Danny's room had closed, Eric dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for Danny's belt.

"Whoa," Danny said, taking a step backward.

Eric froze. Had he made a terrible mistake? _Shit. _

"Sorry," Danny said. "It's just…You're the king. I didn't expect you to… That is to say, seeing _you_ on your knees in front of _me_ kind of threw me off. I thought it'd be the other way around, you know?"

Eric grinned, relief washing over him as he pulled Danny's trousers down. "Just go with it, kid," he muttered. "I wouldn't be doing anything I didn't want to do."

After everything, Eric opened the door to leave. He paused in the doorway, turning back around. Danny was laying in his bed, hair mussed and face flushed.

"You know what happened to the last man I was with?" Eric asked.

Danny shook his head. "No, Your Majesty."

"I pushed him off a cliff," Eric replied, "and watched him smash into the rocks below. And you know why? Because he threatened to tell people about my flings with men. So if you value your life, I suggest you keep your mouth shut about this."

Danny nodded, looking alarmed. "Of course, Your Majesty. I won't tell a soul."

"Good," Eric replied simply, stepping out into the hallway and slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>"Look, it's Eric," Andy said, pointing across the street.<p>

Ariel turned to look. Sure enough, Andy was right. Eric was ambling up the shop-lined street, coming from the direction of the pier.

She sighed. They couldn't ignore him, she supposed. Besides, she and Andy were finished with their shopping, so it would only be right to find out if he wanted to ride back to the castle with them.

"Eric, darling!" she called, waving her arms to get his attention.

Eric glanced up, startled. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back and forth between the two of them."

"Come over here!" she shouted at him.

He crossed the street. "Ariel," he said, nodding at her. "Andy."

"Did you walk into town?" she asked.

He nodded. "I did."

"Well, if you're ready to go back to the castle, you can ride with Andy and me in the carriage," she said. "We're heading back now."

"That would be fine," he said stiffly.

"Actually, I should go see Clarissa," Andy said. "You two go on home in the carriage. I'll walk back. It's fine."

Ariel glared at him. She didn't wish to be alone in a carriage with her husband, and he very well knew it. Andy smirked at her. "See ya, doll," he said, turning and disappearing around a corner.

"People are talking about the two of you," Eric said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" she said, turning around to look at him.

"You spend entirely too much time with him!" Eric snapped. "People think you're fucking him behind my back and I have to admit, I'm starting to agree with them."

Ariel had heard the rumors. She'd even heard a couple maids saying it was a good thing that Eric and Andy looked so alike. That way when her baby was born, it would look enough like Eric that he'd never really know if it was actually Andy's.

"I don't care who you sleep with," Eric continued. "Fuck the whole damn kingdom if you want. But stop fucking my brother!"

"You shouldn't listen to rumors!" she snarled, pushing past him and heading up the street.

He hurried after her, roughly grabbing her arm. She tried to yank herself from his grip, but he held on tighter, his fingernails digging into her skin.

"Promise me you're not sleeping with him!"

"That's none of your business!" she shrieked. She and Andy had never so much as kissed, but she didn't wish to give into Eric's demands, not when he was acting like this. "Now let go of me!"

He dropped her arm. "Whore," he muttered.

"Asshole," she shot back.

Their ride back to the castle was filled with nothing but silence.

"Ugh," she groaned, as they stepped into the foyer. She kicked off her shoes. Her feet were aching again.

"What's wrong?" Eric asked. He didn't sound angry anymore.

"My feet are swollen," she replied. "I wish this baby would just be born already. I'm already sick of it."

"I can give you a foot massage," he offered, as if the fight from minutes ago hadn't actually happened.

She contemplated saying no. But the idea of a foot massage sounded too good to pass up. "Fine," she snapped. "Let's go to my room."

She threw herself onto her bed the moment she stepped into her bedroom. Eric sat down next to her feet. She closed her eyes, sighing with pleasure as he began to rub them. "That feels so good," she mumbled, her words muffled by her pillow.

"Shhh," he said. "Just relax."

So she did.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	23. Chapter 23

A very naked Eric was the first thing Ariel saw when she opened her eyes the next morning. She had apparently pulled all of the sheets away from him in the night because he was completely uncovered, his entire body on display. For a moment, in that groggy state right before reality kicks in, Ariel couldn't help but admire her husband's form in the glow of the sunlight that poured through the window. He truly was beautiful. But then the gravity of what she had done the night before hit her and she groaned, burying her face in her pillow, wishing she could go back and do it differently this time.

What the hell had she been thinking?

Why had she slept with him?

After that awful argument they'd had. After he had accused her of an affair with his own brother. After he had called her a whore. After she had called him an asshole. After they rode back to the castle together in stony silence. After all of that, all it had taken was an offer of a foot massage and she'd fallen into bed with him without a moment's hesitation.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Ariel tugged on the rope that hung beside her bed, the one that would ring a bell to summon Nellie, her lady's maid. She stepped out of bed, not bothering to pull on her dressing gown. Walking over to the full length mirror that hung beside her wardrobe, she stopped, gazing at her naked reflection. Was it possible for her stomach to have gotten noticeably larger since the previous day? She was certain it had. Heaving a sigh, she twisted around, examining herself from different angles. Everyone had been saying to her that pregnant woman had a certain glow to them, but Ariel saw no such glow. She just felt worn out and bedraggled and sore all the time. She sighed again. This baby could not come quickly enough.

A knock on the door signaled Nellie's arrival.

"Come in," Ariel called, still examining herself.

She heard the door open and then a loud gasp. She turned. Nellie was staring at the bed, her eyes glued to Eric's naked body.

"I'm sorry," Ariel said. "I should have covered him or something. I do apologize."

"It's quite all right, Your Majesty," the maid said, pulling her gaze away from Eric. "There are worse sights in this world." She immediately turned bright red. "Begging your pardon, ma'am. I shouldn't have said that. I don't…I don't know what came over me."

Ariel shrugged. "Oh, don't apologize. Any woman in her right mind would be thinking the same."

"Thank you, ma'am," Nellie said. "You're too kind."

Ariel walked back over to the bed, grabbing her dressing gown from where it lay draped over a chair and pulling it on. She reached out, shaking her husband's shoulder.

"Wake up, darling!" she said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

Eric's eyes opened. For a moment, he just stared up at her, a sort of content smile dancing across his face.

"This is how a man should always wake up," he said, as he stood up. "Naked in his wife's bed. It's so much preferable than waking up alone in his own."

He leaned for a kiss, but she dodged it. He pulled back, the scowl he usually had reserved for her settling back over his features.

"I see," he said stiffly. "We're back to this, are we?"

"Put on your clothes and go, darling," she said dismissively. "I have a million things I must do today."

"So I won't be seeing you at breakfast then?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

The look he gave her right before he left was one she couldn't quite place. Was it anger or sadness or regret? A little mix of them all? She couldn't tell.

"It probably isn't my place to say," Nellie said, as she brushed Ariel's hair after helping her dress, "but I was surprised to see Eric in your bed this morning. I…I haven't seen that in quite some time."

Ariel shrugged. "We all make mistakes," she said, unable to stop the bitterness she was feeling from seeping into her tone.

"Ah," Nellie said. "Yes, I certainly understand that."

"Have you ever done anything you bitterly regretted, Nellie?"

Her maid hesitated. "I shouldn't say, ma'am."

"Nellie," Ariel said. "I thought we had become friends. I was so glad when I finally got you talking to me. It made mornings and evenings ever so much more enjoyable. Getting dressed and undressed in silence is such a bore."

"It's just…I don't think you'll like it."

"How do you mean?"

"It…It has to do with…" She lowered her voice to the faintest of whispers. "It has to do with..._the king_."

Ariel's mouth dropped open. "Did you…Did you sleep with him?"

Nellie immediately burst into tears, the hairbrush she'd been holding slipping from her grip and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"It was before you even came here!" she wailed. "I don't know what I was thinking, I really don't. He was just so charming and…and I was such a silly girl back then. I know it was only a little more than a year ago, but…but it honestly feels like a lifetime. I thought I was so grown, so mature. I'd let one of the gardener's boys take my virginity in an old rundown shed a couple weeks before that, and for some reason that made me feel like some kind of wily seductress. So when he…he showed interest in me, I didn't even hesitate. I followed him into his bedroom. And then, as we were…well, you know…I called him by his name. I called him Eric and he was so angry. He told me that just because he'd fucked me, it didn't make us equals. It didn't mean that I could address the future king by his name. He…he shoved me off the bed. It was humiliating." She hung her head, wiping her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her dress. "I…I don't why I just told you all of that. I should have kept my mouth shut."

"No," Ariel said. "I'm glad you've told me. I've had my suspicions about Eric being horrid, but honestly this proves it. He's dreadful, he really is. Don't spend another second feeling bad about what happened. He behaved horribly. You did nothing wrong."

"But I did," Nellie protested. "I overstepped my bounds. I ignored my place in the social ranking."

"That's all a bunch of bullshit. Who cares what someone's rank is?"

"A lot of people do," Nellie murmured, bending over to pick up the hairbrush. "Just as they care about sexual intercourse out of wedlock. I broke that rule too. I'm a bad person."

"People like to act all sanctimonious, Nellie," Ariel said. "But I'm willing to bet that sex out of wedlock and adultery are much more common than one would think. We're humans. We all make mistakes. You're not a bad person."

As she spoke, Ariel couldn't help but wonder whether she was trying to reassure herself at the same time. After all, she had been pregnant before she married Eric (although she remembered none of that). And then there was Flynn…

Oh God, Flynn.

How was she supposed to face him knowing that she had slipped up and slept with Eric?

She and Flynn had been…_seeing each other _for the past two months. After that first kiss, she had just kept going back to him. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't help herself. She had to have him. The way he made her feel when they were tangled up together in his bed—it was incredible.

The whole thing was so messed up. She felt as if she had just cheated on the boy she was cheating on her husband with by sleeping with her husband. How did that even make sense?

She groaned, burying her face in hands.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Nellie asked, sounding uncertain.

Ariel remembered that she had been in the process of comforting her maid and dropped her arms, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"Yes, fine," she said. "I'm fine, and I hope you are too."

"You're not angry that I slept with your husband?"

"No, of course not. You said yourself that it was before I even came here."

"Yes, but you must still be a little upset…"

"No," Ariel said firmly. "I am not in love with my husband, Nellie. Maybe I once was, I don't remember. But I'm not anymore. I don't care what he does. It is not my concern."

Nellie nodded silently as she continued brushing Ariel's hair.

"I think I'll just wear my hair down today," Ariel murmured. "Don't bother braiding it or anything."

"Very good, ma'am," Nellie replied.

And just like that, things were back to normal between the two of them.

* * *

><p>Ariel trudged through the sand on her way to Flynn's shack, trying to figure out what she was going to say to him. Perhaps she should just keep her mouth shut. Did he really have to know? Eric was her husband, after all. Perhaps Flynn was already under the impression that the two of them were still intimate with each other.<p>

She came to a stop in front of the small wooden house, raising her hand to knock.

A moment later, the door swung open and Flynn stood in the doorway, grinning at her. He was unshaven and his blonde hair was disheveled, sticking up in all directions. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and a towel was slung over his shoulder. In his hand, he was holding a bar of soap. If Ariel was the type of girl to swoon, she would have.

"I didn't expect to see you today," he said, stepping aside so she could some inside. "I was just about to take a bath." He gestured at the washtub in the corner. "I'd ask if you wanted to join me, but I can barely fit in there by myself…"

"Isn't that where you wash your clothes?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Not all of us live in castles with running water and porcelain bathtubs and new-fangled flushing toilets, Your Majesty. We have to make do with what we've got. Speaking of which, you're welcome to empty my chamber pot for me while I bathe. It would really help me out."

"Eww," she squealed. "No!"

He laughed, heading over to the stove where he was heating up the water for his bath.

"Wait, Flynn, I have to tell you something," she blurted out.

He turned, looking at her expectantly.

"I slept with Eric last night," she said quietly.

Flynn didn't reply. He just looked at her, his expression unreadable, as if he was waiting for her to say more.

"Are you angry?" she whispered, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer, not sure if she should have even said anything at all.

"He's your husband, Ariel," he replied, not really looking at her.

Ariel immediately noticed that he hadn't really answered her question. And despite the fact that he seemed to be implying that he wasn't angry, his tone was cold and the expression in his eyes had gone from blank to rather icy.

Her heart sank. He was reacting basically as she had expected him to, but that it didn't make it any less painful, especially when she thought back to how to he had responded to the same confession a couple months ago, when she had slept with Eric for the first time since waking up without her memories, back before she and Flynn had ever so much as kissed.

_"I slept with Eric," she blurted out._

_Flynn lifted an eyebrow. "A woman slept with her husband? Fetch me my smelling salts. I am scandalized."_

_"Don't mock me!" she said. "I feel really bad about it."_

_"And why is that?" he asked. "Was he bad at it?"_

_She gasped. "Flynn!"_

_"What? You're the one who started this conversation. Don't blame me for continuing it."_

_"It's just that I don't really like him, I don't think. I mean, he was being more tolerable last night, but…I still feel like perhaps I shouldn't have slept with him. I feel like a whore."_

_He laughed loudly. "Don't be ridiculous, Ariel. You're not a whore. You slept with__your husband__, for god's sake."_

_"But I don't like him…"_

_"So what?"_

His reaction then had been so different, which made sense of course. Back then, it had nothing to do with him.

"Do you want me to leave?" she mumbled.

He picked the pot of water up of the stove, carrying it over to the washtub and pouring it in. "No," he replied, his back turned to her. "No, of course I don't want you to leave."

"Really?"

He turned back around to face her. "Don't sound so surprised, Ariel. Haven't you realized by now that if it were possible, I'd ask you to stay forever?"

Ariel felt her face heat up. It was the first time he'd ever said anything like that to her before. She and Flynn didn't usually talk about their feelings; they just acted on them.

Flynn cleared his throat. "I'm…I'm going to take my bath now. Afterwards we can…" He trailed off.

She smiled at him, knowing exactly what he meant. To her relief, he smiled back.

"We won't get to spend too much time together though, I'm afraid," he said. "I have to go talk to a man about a job. I figured that since my father is away most of the time, I better start bringing in a steady income for myself. I can't survive off various odd jobs forever."

"What kind of job?" she asked.

"Working at the glass factory," he said.

"Isn't working in a factory dangerous?" she asked, vaguely remembering Eric and Andy discussing the working conditions once at dinner.

Flynn shrugged, unbuttoning his trousers and slipping them off. "Don't worry about me, love. I can take care of myself. And money is money. I don't have much of a choice."

Ariel lay down on his bed, curling up on her side, as he got into the tub. She must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, Flynn was climbing into the bed with her. For a moment, they simply lay facing each other, not moving, neither of them saying a single word. Then Flynn reached around her, his fingers slowly undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. She squirmed away from him.

"Don't take off my dress," she said. "I've gotten so fat."

"Untrue," he murmured, his lips grazing over her collar bone.

"I feel like I'm looking more and more like a beached whale every day," she confessed.

"Well, then you're the most beautiful whale I've ever seen," he replied, trailing kisses up her neck, stopping to suck on the spot that he knew would drive her crazy.

"Flynn," she moaned, "I'm serious. Just leave my dress on, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, his words muffled by the skin of her neck as his hands found the hem of her dress. He pushed the fabric upwards, carefully leaving her stomach covered.

Her fingers tangled in his sandy hair as he entered her. His lips moved from her neck to her mouth, and they began to kiss feverishly.

Pretty much nothing in Ariel's life made any sense. She was only seventeen years old, pregnant, and married to a man she didn't love. She had no memories beyond the ones she had obtained over the past few months. She didn't love the baby growing inside her. In fact she felt pretty much nothing for it, except for a bit of resentment. But somehow, despite everything, Flynn always made her feel better. Their relationship was the only thing that felt absolutely and one hundred percent right, even though it shouldn't at all. From an outsider's perspective, they would probably seem all wrong. But that didn't matter to her. Because all she had to do was look into his eyes—his beautiful blue eyes that were exact color of the ocean—and she felt at home immediately.

"I don't understand why this works," she murmured afterwards, as they lay together. "This thing between us, I mean. It doesn't make much sense, when you think about it."

"Why?" he asked. "Because you're the beautiful queen with the rich and powerful husband, and you have no reason to be interested in a poor boy like me who lives in a shack and is the son of a fisherman?"

She hated that some of the coldness from earlier seemed to have seeped back into his tone.

"That's not what I meant," she murmured. "I spend more time wondering why a handsome young man such as yourself is wasting all his time on me—on a married, pregnant girl—when you could be out…I don't know, sowing your wild oats or…or whatever it is boys are supposed to be doing when they're seventeen."

"I don't want to sow my wild oats," he said, his voice low. "I just want you."

"But aren't we doomed?" she asked. "Weren't we doomed from the minute I leaned over that table and kissed you? Maybe even the from the minute you pulled me out of the ocean and saved me from drowning? I'm married to Eric, and as far as I can tell, I'll always have to be married to Eric. I'm pregnant with his child. We're the king and queen. I can't just take off in the middle of the night and run off with you."

Flynn didn't reply. He just lightly ran his finger up and down her arm, making her shiver.

"I feel like I've known you my whole life," she whispered. "It doesn't make sense, but I do."

"I feel the same way," he said. "Which is why I'm not worried. You say we're doomed, but I don't agree. How can something that's so clearly right be doomed? I have faith that we'll figure things out."

"I wish I had woken up without my memories here in this shack with you, pregnant with your baby," she said softly. "And not up at the castle, pregnant with the king's. I would have been so much happier."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Ariel."

It was the first time either of them had said those three words to the other. Ariel's heart soared.

"I love you too."

It was strange, realizing how true these words were. This had to be what love felt like. She was in love with Flynn. How odd that humans beings could recognize an emotion that they had never felt before. Ariel had never been in love, at least not that she remembered. She supposed that once upon a time she might have loved Eric, but those feelings had dissipated right along with her memories. But right now, in this moment, she knew she loved the boy lying next to her.

"I have to go," he whispered, his words full of regret. "I wish I didn't, but I need this job."

"Is it all right if I stay here? I'm not ready to go back to the castle."

"Stay as long as you like," he said, as he stood up. "I would never ask you to leave before you're ready, Ari."

She scowled at him. "You know I hate that nickname, Flynn."

He grinned cockily at her as he pulled on his clothes. "I know."

She stuck out her tongue at him. His smile grew wider. Then he gave her one last kiss and he was gone.

* * *

><p>Eric was stuck in a meeting with his advisers, when all he really wanted to be doing was rounding up men at the pub for his mission to the mer-kingdom.<p>

Lord Baldwin was droning on and on about something. Raising taxes, maybe? Or trade with India? Eric was quite certain he'd heard the word embargo at some point, though that had probably been a good ten minutes ago.

Eric liked being king. He liked the duties that came with it. But lately his mind had been elsewhere.

Lord Baldwin had stopped talking. He and the other men were staring at Eric expectantly.

"Well," Baldwin said. "What do you think, Your Majesty?"

"Um, yes," Eric muttered, drumming his fingers on the table and shifting impatiently. "Sounds good."

Baldwin lifted an eyebrow. "What is it about the massacre of hundreds of innocent civilians that sounds _good_ to you, sir?"

Eric was finally jolted back to reality. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was talking about Galeradon's recent invasion of Arendelle, sir. You know of course that there's been bad blood between the two kingdoms for centuries. Hundreds of innocent, men, women, and children have been killed. Cerravia has already sent troops to help. Arendelle is hoping that since we are also one of their allies, we might do the same."

Eric shook his head. "It's dreadful what's happening, of course. But I hardly see how it's any of our problem. I'm not sending our men to die for a cause that's not there's to fight. Reissa has been at peace for nearly a century and a half. I'm not going to be the king who ruins it and involves us in a war, especially not months after taking the throne. I'd rather my people didn't hate me quite yet."

"Well then," Baldwin said. "I guess that's settled then."

He didn't sound particularly happy, but Eric hardly cared. "So is that all then?" he asked. "Is this meeting over? I have somewhere I need to be."

* * *

><p><strong>This is slightly late, but Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all had an amazing 2014 and have an even better 2015!<strong>

**Don't forget to review!**


	24. Chapter 24

Ariel went into labor a month earlier than she was supposed to, on a cold night in December. It caught her completely off guard. Nobody was expecting it to happen as early as it did. Eric wasn't even present for the birth. He was away, off meeting with the king of a neighboring country to talk about a new trade agreement.

After hours of the most excruciating thing Ariel had ever endured (or at least that she remembered enduring), she gave her birth to a baby boy.

"You did wonderful, Your Majesty," the midwife said, dabbing at her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. "Just one more to go."

"What?" Ariel moaned. "One more…?"

"You're having twins, ma'am."

Ariel was pretty sure she'd never heard something so awful in her life. She had to this again?

Ten minutes later, after a lot of screaming and tears, she gave birth again. This time to a baby girl.

"Which would you like to hold first?" the midwife asked brightly. "Or would you like to try holding them both at the same time?"

Ariel stared at the red, wrinkly things she had just brought into the world. Weren't babies supposed to be cute? Because she thought they were actually kind of ugly. And loud! God, were they ever going to stop shrieking.

Ariel hadn't felt any connection to her baby (or babies, as she now knew) while she had been pregnant. But she had figured that would change after she gave birth and saw them for the first time. But it hadn't. She still felt nothing. They were just there. How could she love them without even knowing them? Didn't love have to grow? It didn't just happen instantaneously.

The midwife was staring at her expectantly. Ariel shook her head. "I don't want to hold either of them right now, thank you."

The midwife's mouth dropped open. She looked horrified. "But…but what about nursing them?"

"There's a wet nurse for that, is there not?" Ariel snapped. Her exhaustion had made her irritable. "I hired her just last week. Go and fetch her!"

The midwife laid the babies, who were still crying hysterically, down carefully in their cribs and hurried from the room.

A couple minutes later, the door creaked open and Andy stepped inside.

"You look awful," he said, as soon as he laid eyes on her.

"I think you're supposed to congratulate someone after they've given birth," she muttered.

"Congratulations, you look awful," he said, walking over to where the babies were lying. "Jesus, Ariel, two of them?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea."

"Aren't babies supposed to be cute?" he asked, as he eyed them warily from a distance. "They look like aliens."

She shrugged. "I guess the cuteness sets in a little later."

"Have you named them?"

"Nope."

"Well, don't you think you should?" he asked. "It's not really socially acceptable for a person to remain nameless, you know."

"Should I really name them without Eric present? Aren't both parents supposed to have a hand in that process?"

"Haven't you already discussed names with him?" Andy asked.

She shook her head.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be fine with whatever you decide on, Ariel. I really don't think baby names are something that matter all that much to him."

"You're probably right," Ariel said with a sigh. "Do you have any suggestions? Because I have no ideas."

He looked at her funny. "You really haven't thought of any possible names already?"

"Hadn't gotten around to yet," she said, shrugging. "I've had other things on my mind, I suppose."

"Well, I'm not going to name your babies for you, Ariel. I'm their uncle, not their father. It's my job. Can't you think of any names you like?"

She thought for a moment. "I kind of like the name Melody for the girl," she finally said. "But if she can't sing, it might be an awkward for her."

"I'm sure she'll be able to sing beautifully," Andy replied. "You're her mother, after all. And honestly, Eric can carry a tune too."

"Melody," Ariel murmured, testing the name out again. "Yes, I think I like it."

"May I suggest Mariah as a middle name?" Andy asked. "After Eric's twin? I think it'll sound nice with Melody."

"Melody Mariah," Ariel said slowly. "Melody Mariah. Yes, you're right. I think it's beautiful."

"What about the boy?" Andy asked. "He'll be king someday. He should have a kingly sounding name, I suppose."

"Michael?" Ariel suggested. "I guess it would be cute if both their names began with M."

"I like it," Andy said. "What about a middle name?"

She shrugged, a giant wave of exhaustion washing over. She snuggled into her pillow, pulling the covers tightly around her. "You pick, Andy. Please."

"I don't know," Andy said, sounding exasperated. "You could just use Eric, I guess. Name him after his father."

"Michael Eric," she said with a yawn. "Yes, I suppose that's fine."

At that moment, the midwife returned, followed closely by the wet nurse. "I see you've met your niece and nephew, Your Highness," she said, smiling kindly at Andy. "Would you like to hold them? The queen isn't feeling up to it yet. She's quite exhausted, as you might imagine."

Andy's grimaced, as he eyed the two babies. "No, thank you," he said. "I'd…rather not."

The midwife frowned, but she said nothing.

Andy bid Ariel goodbye, cast one last uncertain look at the babies, and left the room. Ariel closed her eyes and feel asleep.

When she woke back up, the midwife and wet nurse were still in her room. They were sitting in the corner, each other them holding a baby.

"I hope the king and queen always surround these children with affectionate and kind-hearted nurses and nannies," the midwife was saying. "Otherwise I'm quite afraid they'll never get any love at all, poor dears. What kind of mother refuses to hold her own child?"

Ariel considered speaking up, telling them off, ordering them from the room, from the castle. But she kept her mouth closed, burrowing further under the covers.

She was so tired.

Her entire body ached.

And suddenly, she really missed Flynn. She didn't get to see him enough, now that he'd started working at the factory. He was only off on Sundays and late in the evenings.

She fell back asleep and dreamed her memories came back and she was able to remember a happy childhood with loving parents who doted on her and lots of siblings to play with and a big house so close to the ocean she couldn't believe it hadn't been swept away by the waves. And she couldn't understand what had possessed her to run away from such a charmed life.

When she woke up again alter that night, the room was dark, the midwife and wet nurse was gone, her babies had been taken away to the nursery, and her dream disappeared with a poof. She still remembered nothing. She was still a teenager married to a man she didn't love and in love with a man she wasn't married to. And now, to top it all off, she had two babies she didn't want.

For a brief moment, in that groggy, disoriented state, she couldn't even remember what she had named them.

What kind of mother was she? An awful one, apparently.

And she hated herself for it.

* * *

><p>Clarissa was having one of her "bad days," as Andy had grown used to calling them. They were the days when her rape seemed to weigh most heavily on her mind, whether it was because of a nightmare she'd had or because of something she's seen or heard or experienced that triggered her memory of the event. On her bad days, she rarely talked and she certainly didn't let him touch her. Even a slight brush of his fingers against hers sometimes upset her.<p>

She was currently curled up in a ball on her bed, buried under the covers, facing away from him. He was sitting next to her—making sure the gap between them was large enough that she wouldn't feel violated— with this back against her headboard, attempting to make conversation.

"Ariel gave birth last night," he said. "You probably heard that already, I suppose. The heir of the throne being born is pretty big news. But can you believe she had twins? Nobody saw that coming, I don't think."

His words were met with nothing but silence—the awkward, heavy kind.

"There's going to be a Christmas ball at the castle on Saturday," he said, attempting a different approach. "Would you like to accompany me?"

This, at least, seemed to get her attention. She rolled over, so that she was at last facing him. "You want _me _to go to a ball with you?"

"Of course," he said. "Who else would I want?"

"Maybe you should ask Virginia Ashworth instead," she muttered.

Andy frowned. "That's been over for months and you know it."

"I know," she replied. "But I just think she'd probably be a better dance partner than me. I don't think I would be much fun at a ball, Andy."

"I want you there."

"I'll consider it," she said slowly, "if I'm having a good day."

He grinned. "Really?"

The corner of her mouth twitched up ever so slightly, if only for a second. "Don't get you hopes, Your Highness."

"Too late," he said. "Do you have a gown to wear? I can buy you one, if you like."

"I'm not really in the mood to go shopping with you," she said.

"That's fine. I can go by myself. I'll just buy a two or three and you can pick your favorite."

She shook her head, looking exasperated. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"Nope," he said, hopping out of the bed. "I'll be back with the gowns as soon as possible, okay? Do you prefer red or green? I could get a couple in each color, if you don't know."

"How about black?" she said flatly.

He could already sense that she was pulling away from him again. Her eyes wouldn't meet his, and her hands were clenched around her sheets, her knuckles turning white. Perhaps he'd pushed things too far.

"It's a Christmas ball, not a funeral, Lissa," he said quietly.

"Black," she repeated. "Please."

"All right," he agreed. "Black, it is."

She didn't respond when he said goodbye. She didn't respond when he told her he loved her. Not that it surprised him—she hadn't said those three words since the day they had gotten back together, not even when she was having a good day.

He understood, he did.

But that didn't make it less difficult.

* * *

><p>Ariel didn't wake up until late in the afternoon. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Eric standing over her bed, his arms crossed over his chest. She rubbed her eyes as he slowly came into focus. He didn't look happy.<p>

"Twins?" was the first thing out his mouth. "You had to have twins? I didn't even want one baby, and now we have two?"

Ariel sighed. She was honestly much too exhausted to deal with this.

"It's not like I had any control over it!" she snapped. "I certainly didn't want this either!"

He glared at her, obviously not in the mood to listen to reason.

"Feel free to see yourself out," she muttered. "I'm done with this conversation."

He stormed out in a huff, and Ariel let out another sigh. Was this going to be her life from here on out? Was she going to be stuck here in this castle in a loveless marriage to a king with a volatile temper until she died?

The thing she had with Flynn, whatever it was, was her escape from reality. When she was with him, she could pretend her marriage to Eric was temporary, that somehow she and Flynn would find a way to run away and be together forever. But that was just a silly dream. She'd always known it was, in the back of her mind. But now it seemed even more ridiculous than it had before. She'd just given birth to her and Eric's babies. Those two tiny human beings would tie them together forever. How could she ever leave him now? Her son—Michael—was the heir to the throne. He would one day be king. She could never leave.

She was stuck there.

She was going to die there.

Flynn would eventually become just a boy she once knew, a boy she once loved, a boy she hadn't seen in years, in decades.

She buried her face in her pillow, sobs wracking her body.

She had never felt so hopeless.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry this chapter is so short. <strong>

**Please, please review! What do you think about the twins? About Ariel and Eric having the paternal instincts of a couple rocks? About Clarissa and Andy? About anything else? What do you think is going to happen next? Just tell me all your thoughts, haha. Those are my favorite kind of reviews :)**


	25. Chapter 25

Andy told himself not to get his hopes up when he went to pick up Clarissa to take her to the Christmas ball. He knew it was entirely possible that she had changed her mind, that she was having a bad day, that she would refuse to leave her house.

Instead, she greeted him cheerfully at the front door, wearing a red gown instead of the black one she had insisted that she wanted.

She smiled at him—an actual, real smile—and stood on her toes to kiss him.

"I'm having a good day," she murmured, as he led her to the carriage.

"I can see that," he said, grinning down at her. "And I'm very glad."

She eyed him suspiciously as they sat down on the velvet seat. "I didn't taste any alcohol on your breath," she said. "Don't tell me you haven't had anything to drink yet."

"I haven't," he said. "Not a drop in four days, I swear."

"I really like when you're sober," she said, smiling at him. "And I know it's hard for you, so I'm really proud of you."

He shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal, Lissa."

Truthfully, it was a _very_ big deal. But she looked so pleased to hear that he hadn't been drinking that he just couldn't bring himself to tell her that the reason his hands were shaking so badly wasn't because he was nervous or cold, but because he _needed_ a drink. Really, really needed one.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and he inhaled her familiar scent. For a moment, he felt okay. She was his again. And he was hers. And they were in love.

And he didn't need a drink.

He didn't need a drink.

He was fine.

Everything was fine.

* * *

><p>Clarissa was proud of herself. This morning, when her mother had hugged, she hadn't flinched away. And she had kissed Andy <em>on the lips.<em> Maybe she was finally getting better. Maybe physical contact was finally becoming less triggering.

She felt good. For the first time in a long time, she actually felt good.

That was, until Andy led her into the ballroom and she laid eyes on _him._

And then it all came rushing back. The pain and the screams and the blood. He was so heavy, so sweaty. She was trapped and it hurt. Oh god, it hurt.

Why had she come here? What had she been thinking? Had she really thought that she could casually mingle and dance and make conversation at a ball with Eric right there in the same room? She couldn't do this. Why had she come here?

Her grip on Andy's arm must have tightened because he glanced down at her, looking concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," she said. "Perfectly fine. It's just…a bit hot in here, don't you think?" She wiped her face on her sleeve, her eyes darting about, trying to look anywhere but over at _him._

Andy frowned. "Are you sure you're all right, Lissa? You don't seem it."

"I'm great!" she said, trying to sound chipper.

But she might have sounded a bit demented. The grin she was giving him wasn't exactly natural. It hurt, stretching across her face…too wide…not reaching her eyes…

"We should go say hello to Eric, I guess," Andy said. "And Ariel."

Panic flooded over Clarissa. There was no way she could actually face him—stand there and make conversation and pretend everything was okay.

She shook her head. "No. No. I…I don't feel so good, Andy."

"I knew you looked pale," he said. "Are you coming down with something?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe."

"What do you want to do?"

"I think I'll just go stand over there," she said, waving her hand at one of the corners of the room. "And rest for a little while, maybe have a little punch. You go say hello to your brother. Tell him…tell him I say hello too."

"All right," Andy agreed. "If you're sure."

He leaned in to kiss her but she ducked to avoid it, already hurrying away. "I don't want you catch anything!" she called over her shoulder.

She reached the corner, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes.

She would just stay here for a little bit and then she would be okay. Then she would dance with Andy and make small talk with ambassadors and prime ministers and everything would be fine.

* * *

><p>"Are you feeling better?" Andy asked, approaching Clarissa a few minutes later. "Do you want to dance or something?"<p>

She lifted her head and stared at him. The light he'd seen in her eyes when he'd picked her up from her house had gone from her eyes. Now they just looked empty, dead.

She shook her head. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now," she whispered. "I think I'll just stay here for a bit longer."

"Okay," he said. "I'll stay with you."

"No," she said. "No, that wouldn't be fair. This is a party, Andy. Go enjoy it. I'll be fine."

He hesitated, but she looked at him imploringly. "Please."

"Fine," he said, slowly starting to back away. "Fine."

He made his way back into the crowd. Maybe he'd find Ariel and ask her to dance.

"Andy!" a voice shouted over the din.

A very familiar voice.

He turned. Virginia Ashworth was hurrying toward him, followed closely by a man Andy recognized as being Prince Edgar, the heir to the throne of Cerravia. Andy remembered Ginny mentioning him months ago when Andy had ended things with her. It seemed that she had finally managed to sink her claws into a future king.

"Andy!" she said, flinging her arms around him. He stumbled backwards slightly, caught off guard, wrapping his arms around her waist to hug her back.

"Hello, Ginny," he said as he regained his balance. "How are you?"

She pulled away, waving her hand in his face. "I got married!" she shrieked, causing several people to turn around and stare. "A month ago. Can you believe it? I'm going to be a queen!"

"Wow," he said. "That was…quick. How long was the engagement?"

She shrugged. "A month or so, I guess. I just figured that there was no reason to wait. I knew what I wanted."

Andy smiled at Edgar, who was standing off to the side, awkwardly watching their interaction. "I think we met a few years ago, Your Highness," he said. "At that—"

"Yes, yes," Virginia interrupted, turning to face her husband. "Edgar, darling, go get me something to drink—a glass of champagne. I'm going to dance with Andy."

Andy shook his head, bemused but unable to help a wave of fondness from washing over him. This was the Ginny he knew all to well—the girl who wasn't afraid to order a future king about as if he was a servant.

"So," he said, as they began to dance. "You finally landed yourself that king, huh?"

"He's not a king yet," she said.

"He will be."

"Yes," she said dreamily. "He will be."

"How did his parents feel about the whole thing?" he asked curiously. "The engagement was so quick. Surely they had someone lined up they already wanted him to marry, someone who was actually of royal descent. My parents were horrified when they found out Eric was marrying Ariel."

She shrugged, smiling mysteriously. "At first they were upset, I supposed. But then they got to know me. You of all people should know how charming and likeable I am, darling."

"Is he nice to you?" Andy asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it. All he could think about was how Timothy Dewitt used to treat her. "Are you happy?"

He was quite sure that Ginny had married Edgar simply to marry a future king. That didn't seem like the most solid foundation for a marriage. And she'd been so dismissive of him earlier. Did she even like him?

But she didn't reply. She had caught notice of Lissa, who was still standing off by herself.

"Why is Clarissa Dufresne standing all alone in a corner?" she asked. "Aren't you madly in love with her, Andy? Shouldn't you be dancing with _her_?"

"She didn't feel like dancing," Andy muttered.

"Well, shouldn't you at least be standing with her then? Or you could have at least made sure she had someone to talk to, don't you think?"

"Are your through interrogating me?" he snapped. "I don't especially feel good about this, you know."

"Sorry," she said, as her husband returned with her glass of champagne. She stepped away from Andy, accepting it.

"I'll see you around, Andy," she said, linking her arm through Edgar's. "You should go to Clarissa."

He watched them walk away, not sure what to do. He didn't like that Clarissa was all alone, but she'd been so insistent. He was fairly certain she didn't want to be around him—or anyone for that matter—right then.

"Where's Clarissa?" Ariel asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

Andy ignored her question, turning to face her. "Dance with me?" he asked, sticking out his hand.

She pretended to think about it. "I _suppose_ so," she said teasingly.

He took her hand, resting the other on her waist.

"How are your children doing?" he asked as they began to move.

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine, I suppose."

"You _suppose_?"

"They're in good hands," she said dismissively. "Their nannies came highly recommended."

He chuckled. "I'm so glad to hear that motherhood has turned you into such a loving, nurturing individual, Ariel."

She rolled her eyes. "They're a week old, Andy. I haven't had much of a chance to get to know them yet."

"Have you tried?"

She sighed loudly, ignoring him. "I'm tired off this ball, aren't you? It's hot and stuffy in here, and everyone is dull. Let's go outside."

"It's kind of cold out there."

"Fine, I'll go by myself," she said, dropping his hand and starting toward the exit.

"No," he said, hurrying after her. "I'll come with you. It's my duty, as your best friend."

She grinned. "That's very true. You wouldn't want to neglect your duties."

He cast one last backwards glance at Clarissa as they made their way to the door. She wasn't looking at them.

"You coming?" Ariel asked.

"Yup," he said, turning back around and following her out the door.

* * *

><p>Clarissa tried to tell herself that it didn't bother her that Andy had gone off to dance with Virginia Ashworth. She <em>had<em> told him to go enjoy himself, after all.

Now she watched as she followed Ariel out the door of the ballroom. Where were they going? She saw Andy turn and she quickly dropped her gaze. For some reason she didn't want him to know she'd been watching.

She surveyed the room. Perhaps she should make an effort to make conversation with someone. But nobody looked familiar.

Then, by mistake, her gaze fell on Eric. And his eyes met hers, his lips curling up into a small smirk. Her heart stopped and she quickly looked away, her heart pounding.

Oh god.

Oh god.

She had to get out of there.

She pushed through the crowd, heading toward the door she'd just seen Andy and Ariel disappear through. She hurried down several long corridors, praying she wouldn't get lost. Finally, she found a door that led outside. She stopped in front of it, peering out the window.

The door led out onto a long terrace that was built on top of the cliff, extending out over the beach. Ariel was sitting on bench and Andy was sprawled out next to her, his head resting in her lap.

Clarissa tried to repress the surge of jealousy that flared up inside her, but she couldn't. Andy always said that that Ariel was just his friend, but they looked so _comfortable_ together. And Ariel was so beautiful, with all the red hair piled on top her head and the emerald green gown that matched it so well. She was so effortlessly beautiful. She'd given birth only days before. How did she look so perfect? It wasn't fair.

No one even knew where Ariel she'd come from. She was nobody, but she'd been charming enough to become the queen.

And she wasn't afraid of letting boys touch her. There were whispers all over the kingdom that she had gotten pregnant before she was married.

Beautiful. Charming. Easy. No wonder Andy left Clarissa in a corner and gone off with Ariel.

Clarissa cringed. That wasn't fair to either of them. She had told Andy to go have fun. And Ariel certainly had never done anything to deserve to be labeled as _easy_. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She was being an idiot. Ariel and Andy were just friends.

But they just looked so good together.

Before she could stop herself, Clarissa had flung open the door and marched outside.

"Andy!" she snapped, approaching the bench. "I need to talk to you!"

He sat up, looking startled. "Lissa, what are doing out here?"

"Why do you care?" she asked. "Are you _hiding _something?"

She sounded irrational, but she couldn't help herself.

He frowned. "No?"

"I'm going to leave you two alone," Ariel said, standing up. "Don't want to get in the way of your little lover's spat."

Clarissa glared at Andy as Ariel slipped away. "Are you sleeping with her?"

"What? No!" Andy exclaimed. "Why does everyone always think that?"

"You're always together. You're incredibly comfortable together. You flirt. You touch way more than is socially acceptable for anyone to touch someone of the opposite sex," Clarissa said. "People aren't blind, Andy."

"LIssa, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you're the only one for me before it finally sinks in and you believe me," Andy said. "But I'll keep telling you. You are the only one I want. You're it. Me and you. Forever." He paused, studying her. "Besides, the idea of being with Ariel like that makes me want to vomit. That's disgusting."

"I hardly think Ariel is disgusting," Clarissa murmured.

"No, of course she's not," Andy said. "But the idea of sleeping with her is disgusting to me. It'd be like having relations with my sister."

"You would flirt that much with your sister?"

"She's not my actual sister. She's my sister-in-law. You can flirt with your in-laws, Lissa. But anything else is gross."

"Did you just make that rule up?" Clarissa asked, unable to help a small smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Maybe," he replied, smiling at her in return. "Besides, you know that I'm—" He paused, glancing around and lowering his voice "—a _virgin."_

"I still have a hard time believing that," she said with a sigh.

"It's because I'm so charming and irresistible, Lissa," he said, deadpan. "_Nobody_ would believe it."

There was at least a thirty to forty percent chance that he was dead serious.

"I only want you," he said. "I can wait until you're ready."

"I want to believe that."

"Then believe it," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You'll wait as long as it takes?"

He nodded. "Though it would be preferable if it happened before we're 60. A pair of 60-year-old virgins would just be sad, don't you think?"

She giggled. "Yes, quite sad."

His face grew serious. "I promise that nothing has ever happened between Ariel and me."

"You've never even kissed her?"

He shook his head. "No, I swear."

She nodded, walking over to the railing, gazing out over the beach and the water. "It's a beautiful night," she murmured.

It truly was. The moon was full and hung low in the sky. The air was chilly, but not too cold. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ocean.

"Do you want to stay out here for a while or do you want to back into the ball?" Andy asked. "Do you want to go home? Or something else?"

She turned around to face him. "I want to see the babies."

"The babies?"

"Ariel's twins," she said. "Melody and Michael. I want to see them. I adore babies."

"Oh," he said, looking caught off guard, clearly not having expected this answer. "All right then. Let's go to the nursery."

Ten minutes later, they stood in front of two cradles, gazing down at two sleeping infants.

"They're so cute," Clarissa murmured.

Andy frowned. "You think? Ariel and I thought they were quite ugly."

She gasped. "Andy, that's awful!"

"I mean, I'm sure they'll grow into their looks! But newborns are just so strange looking, Lissa. Admit it."

"I will admit no such thing."

"You want to hold one of them?" he asked.

"They're sleeping," she whispered. "I wouldn't want to wake them."

As if on cue, Michael woke up, his face scrunching up as he began to wail loudly.

"Oh, poor little dear," Clarissa said, reaching inside the cradle to pick him up.

He was so tiny. She couldn't believe it. How could someone so small even be real? She cradled him close to her chest. He gazed up at her, as if trying to figure out who she was. And then he stopped crying.

She glanced up at Andy. "Oh my god," she said. "I made him stop crying. He likes me!"

She looked back down at Michael, thinking of the baby she'd lost before she'd ever known she was pregnant. It had been Eric's baby, just as Michael and Melody were. Their half-sibling who'd never gotten a chance at life. Would he or she had looked like these two babies? Would her baby have had the same dark hair and blue eyes?

She began to feel sick to her stomach.

Why was it that whenever she started to feel better, the terrible thing Eric had done to her had to come rushing to the forefront of her mind and ruin everything?

It was like he had cursed her, making it so she'd never be happy again.

"Do you want to be a mother someday, Lissa?" Andy asked, interrupting her awful thoughts.

She nodded. "Yes," she said. "But only if they're your children."

He smiled at her. "I'd like that."

She gently placed Michael back into his cradle and reached out, grabbing Andy's hand and squeezing it tightly. She wished that she never had to let go.

But that wasn't possible.

"I should go home," she whispered.

He nodded. "All right. Let's go get you into a carriage."

Then the two of them walked hand in hand out the door of the nursery.

* * *

><p>Andy wandered back into the ballroom. Clarissa was gone, and he didn't particularly want to be there, but he figured he should at the very least say goodnight to Ginny.<p>

When he found her, she was dancing with her husband. Andy paused, watching them. There was something different about her, but at first he couldn't put his finger on it. Then it hit him. Her demeanor had changed. He'd never seen her quite like this before. Usually, when it came to interacting with the opposite sex, Ginny was sultry and flirtatious and just a bit unnatural, batting her eyelashes and laughing a little too loudly.

But with Edgar, she was different. Andy couldn't quite put it into words. The best he could come up with was sincere. Her head rested against his chest as they slowly swayed to the music. And then, when Edgar leaned down to whisper something in her ear, she looked up at him and gave him a small smile. That's when Andy saw it, in her eyes.

She turned her head slightly, catching sight of him, and Andy almost regretted interrupting them. She murmured something to Edgar and made her way over to Andy.

"I just wanted to say goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight, Andy," she said, pulling a small mirror from her purse and examining her reflection. He watched in amusement as she pursed her lips and batted her eyelashes. This was the Virginia Ashworth he was familiar with.

"I saw you dancing with your husband," he said.

"Oh?" she said, closing the mirror and putting it away.

"You're in love with him."

It wasn't a question. Andy had seen it in her eyes.

She grinned, looking happier than he'd ever seen her. "Yes, I suppose I am," she said. "Believe me, I didn't see it coming. I agreed to marry him because he's the heir to a throne. But, somewhere along the way, I actually fell for him. You asked me earlier if he's nice to me and if I'm happy. I got distracted and didn't give you an answer, so I will now. Yes—that's my answer, to both questions. He's so kind, Andy. He treats me so well. And every morning, when I wake up and look over at him, sleeping next to me, I fall a little bit more in love with him."

"That's wonderful to hear, Ginny," Andy murmured. "I am so, so happy for you. You deserve it. Truly."

"And how are things with you and Clarissa?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Things perhaps aren't as perfect for the two of us as they are for you and Edgar. We both have our problems. But I think we're going to work through them. I love her."

Ginny stood on her toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Andy."

"Goodnight, Ginny."

She walked away, back to her husband, leaving Andy standing alone in the middle of the ballroom. A server passed by, holding a tray of glasses of champagne. Andy grabbed one, swallowing it all in one gulp.

Then he reached for another.

* * *

><p>Ariel's bare feet sunk into the sand with every step she took. She clutched her shoes in her hands, the bottom of her ball gown dragging behind her. It would be ruined, but she didn't particularly care.<p>

She just wanted to see Flynn. Ever since he'd gotten a job at the glass factory, the time they got to spend together had become pretty limited. His hours were long and the working conditions were strenuous. Often when he was off, he was too tired to do much of anything. It was currently late on Saturday night. Sundays were the only day Flynn didn't have to work, so he wouldn't have to wake up early the next day. Hopefully that meant they'd finally be able to spend some much needed quality time together.

He answered the door after she'd knocked, lifting an eyebrow as he looked her up and down.

"Look at you," he said.

She glanced down at her green gown. The hem was dirty, part of it torn where it had snagged on a piece of driftwood. She could feel her elaborate updo coming undone, falling in long tendrils around her face.

"I'm a bit of a mess right now," she said, stepping inside.

"A _beautiful_ mess," he said.

She smiled at him. He was still in his work clothes. Evidently he'd had to work even longer than usual; he looked like he'd just arrived home. His shirt was tattered. There was dirt was streaked across his face. Sweat beaded at his temple. He had dark bags under his eyes—large ones, as if he hadn't slept in a week.

"You're a bit of a beautiful mess yourself," she said.

He scowled. "I think you mean ruggedly handsome, Ari."

She took a few steps toward him. "And I think you know I hate that nickname."

He reached out, circling an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him. They stumbled backward towards his bed as he fumbled with the small golden clasps that held her dress together at the back. She wriggled out of it, letting it pool at her feet. They fell back onto the bed, continuing to shed their clothing. He undid the ties of her corset and she let out a sigh of relief. She could breathe again.

Her fingers tangled in his blonde hair and she closed her eyes, imagining as she often did that this was her actual life—that she lived in this shack on a beach, married to her ruggedly handsome factory worker.

"How are your babies?" he asked afterwards, as they lay tangled together amongst his sheets.

She realized with a jolt that she hadn't seen him since she'd given birth.

"Fine," she said shortly.

"Twins," he said. "That must've been a shock."

She nodded. "Yes, it was."

"Do they look like _him_?" Flynn asked.

Ariel twisted her neck, gazing up at him. His eyes were focused on her wedding ring. Why hadn't she taken it off? Normally she took it off before coming to see him.

"I suppose they do," she said. "More him than me, yes." She sighed. "I don't know. They don't look like much of anything really, Flynn."

He didn't reply.

"I think I'm a bad mother," she murmured.

"It's only been a week, Ariel."

"I know," she said. "But I never go see them on my own in the nursery. Once a day the nannies bring them down to see Eric and me in the parlor. But it's only for a few minutes. I haven't even held them yet. Or changed their diapers. Or nursed them. Or calmed them when they cry. Nothing."

He pulled her closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"It's all new to you, love," he said. "But you'll figure it out. You'll be a great mother. I promise."

She snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes. Soon she would have to return to the castle, to her real life. But for now they were here. Together.

* * *

><p>Eric was drunk, which was something incredibly rare for him. He hated the feeling of not being in control.<p>

But throughout the entire ball, drinking had been the only thing keeping him sane.

All anyone wanted to talk about was the war between Galeradon and Arendelle. Everyone wanted to know why Reissa hadn't sent any troops to help support Arendelle. Cerravia had sent men and supplies, everyone insisted on pointing out, as if Eric didn't already know. Why wasn't Reissa getting involved?

Quite frankly, Eric was sick and tired of discussing it. Why the hell did everyone want Reissa to go to war so badly anyway? The country had been enjoying its longest era of peacetime in centuries. Eric wasn't going to be the one to ruin that, especially not to help another country.

Arendelle's problems were their own. He had more important things to worry about.

The main thing on his mind was, of course, the gathering of men for his invasion of the underwater mer-kingdom. It was going okay, but it was a slow, arduous process. It wasn't as if he could just hang flyers up around the kingdom, asking for recruits for a secret mermaid mission. Men had to be approached individually or in small groups. They had to be desperate enough to risk everything for a bit of money and adventure. They had to believe mermaids existed or at least be open to the idea that they might exist. Eric had to be pretty certain that the men would say yes before he even asked them. Most had, but there had been a few who had refused. They had been dealt with, of course. After all, they knew too much. He couldn't just let them wander off and tell whomever they wanted about his plans.

Schmitt and his nephew Danny, the first two men Eric had recruited for his conquest, were helping him. Right now, they were traveling around the countryside, gathering men from all around Reissa. Eric had been recruiting men in all the other kingdoms he'd traveled to over the past several months.

But Eric couldn't help but worry. What if they didn't gather enough men? What if they weren't able to conquer the mer-people?

He shook his head, chugging the remainder of his glass of champagne. Of course they would succeed. He had a very valuable weapon, after all. Thanks to Ariel's memories he was on his way to memorizing every nook and cranny of the underwater kingdom. He knew every secret passage. He knew where every guard was stationed. He knew where the king slept. And he knew many other things about King Triton too. His weaknesses. His secrets.

_You needn't worry_, he told himself.

The number of guests at the ball had begun to dwindle immensely. It was getting pretty late, and most of them had gone home or headed up to their guest room for the night. Only a few stragglers were left in the ballroom, talking amongst themselves. None of them noticed when Eric slipped out the door.

He stumbled down a corridor, not completely sure where he was heading. Tripping over his own feet, he crashed into a suit of armor.

"Ouch," he muttered, rubbing his arm and glaring at his inanimate attacker.

Eric envied nothing about Andy's life, except perhaps his alcohol tolerance. Andy could have much more alcohol in his system than Eric currently did—and he usually did—and you'd hardly be able to tell. It took _a lot _of drinking and probably some other substances too before his dear brother reached this stage of inebriation.

He glanced around, hoping that nobody was watching him in such an embarrassing state of disarray.

He trudged up a staircase, gripping the banister tightly to keep his balance. He wandered down another corridor. Soon he found himself outside the nursery. He paused. Had he meant to come here? Pushing open the door, he peeked inside. It was dark, and the babies were sleeping. Their nannies and the wet nurse slept in an adjoining room. Seeing as none of them were currently with the twins, Eric stepped inside.

He crept over to the cradles. It was dark, and he could only vaguely make out the shape of the babies because of a small bit of moonlight that drifted in from the window. He shifted his weight slightly and the floor creaked.

"Shit," he muttered.

Seconds later, both babies were awake and shrieking.

The door to the adjoining room sung open and one of the nannies appeared, holding an oil lamp. A small bit of light flooded the room.

"Oh!" she gasped when she saw him. "Your Majesty! I didn't…I wasn't expecting to see you in here."

"I, um…I just thought I would check on them," he said, his words coming out slightly slurred. "I haven't really…I haven't really spent any time with them yet. Sorry, I'll…I'll just go."

"No, don't," she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the babies' cries. "I think that's fantastic."

She crossed the room, reaching into the cradle and picking up Michael. She began to slowly rock him in her arms, singing softly in his ear.

"You should try holding Melody," she suggested.

Eric thought that perhaps he wasn't in the best state to be holding an infant, but the nanny was staring at him expectantly so he reached into the cradle and picked up his daughter for the first time. She was tiny, impossibly tiny. And loud. Goddamn. Her shrieking was going to deafen him, he was quite sure of it.

"Er, hello," he said uncomfortably. What was he supposed to do with her exactly? What if she spit up on him? Or wet herself?

She blinked up at him and, to his surprise, her crying ceased.

"They're good babies," the nanny said. "They cry much less than the other newborns I've cared for."

Eric examined his daughter. She didn't look like much, not yet at least. And yet there was something familiar about her.

"She kind of looks like my sister," he blurted out.

Of course, he didn't remember what Mariah had looked like at this age, but there was something there. Something in the eyes. Like perhaps Melody would grow up to look like her late aunt.

The nanny looked at him strangely. "Your sister?"

The alcohol was making him reckless, stupid. Why had he drunk so much? He had forgotten for a minute that the kingdom did not know that Mariah had ever existed. His loathsome parents had hidden her away from the moment she was born.

"My twin sister," he muttered. "She died a long time ago."

It had only been a few years, but perhaps the nanny would figure it happened when Eric and Mariah were babies and drop the subject.

"Melody Mariah," he whispered, gazing down at the baby in his arms.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady. She had fallen back asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it took me so long to update! This chapter's a little longer than usual though to try to make up for it!<strong>

**Don't forget to review :)**


	26. Chapter 26

It had been three months since Ariel had given birth, and every day the nannies brought the babies to the parlor in the afternoon for her and Eric to "visit" with. For three months, this daily ritual had consisted of Eric holding Melody for a few minutes while Ariel watched, ignoring the nanny's attempts to get her to hold Michael. It wasn't that she liked that her son was being ignored, but she just couldn't bring herself to hold him. He was so small, so delicate, so squirmy. And when she glanced at him—or Melody—she still felt nothing. And that angered her a bit. They were her babies. Why couldn't she love her babies? What was wrong with her? Even Eric clearly felt some kind of connection to Melody. Sometimes when he held her, he actually smiled—something very rare indeed.

Ariel wasn't sure why Eric seemed to favor Melody over Michael. Michael was his heir after all. It would stand to reason that Eric would prefer him, that he would spoil and coddle him, but that wasn't the case. Honestly, Eric barely seemed to realize Michael was alive.

"Poor Michael must be the most unloved future king there's ever been," Ariel had once heard one of the nannies whisper to the other.

Sadly, that was probably true.

Today, when the nannies arrived with the twins in tow, Eric reached for his daughter as per usual. He rocked her in his arms a bit, looking enamored, and Ariel felt slightly ill. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she have that with her children? She wanted that.

And so she found herself reaching out her arms to the nanny holding Michael, who responded only by gaping at her in shock.

"I would like to hold my son, please," Ariel said.

Wordlessly, the woman handed her the baby.

And for the very first time, Ariel held one of her children.

She gazed down at him and he blinked up at her. Then he opened his mouth and began to giggle.

Ariel felt her heart flutter in her chest. And then she fell more deeply in love than she had ever thought possible.

* * *

><p>Eric watched as Ariel held Michael, her eyes widening with delight as the baby began to giggle. She glanced over at him, grinning widely and at first he thought he had to be hallucinating. He couldn't remember the last time Ariel had looked at him with anything other than contempt.<p>

"He's perfect," she said, gesturing down at Michael. Her gaze shifted to Melody, who had fallen asleep in his arms. "They both are, aren't they?"

"We did a pretty good job making them," he replied. "Maybe someday we can make another one."

Eric wasn't completely sure what made him say it, and he expected her to react to this statement with anger or disgust. They hadn't been together like that in ages. She seemed to want nothing to do with him.

But instead she smiled almost flirtatiously. "Maybe someday," she murmured.

She turned her attention back to Michael, and Eric found it difficult to take his eyes of her. Motherhood suited her, it seemed. Somehow she looked even more beautiful than usual.

* * *

><p>When Ariel was bored, she usually went for a walk along the beach, sometimes with Andy, sometimes with Flynn, and sometimes just by herself. It didn't matter how much time she spent there, the ocean was always the most comforting and most familiar thing in her life. She never tired of being near it, of smelling it, of feeling the sand between her toes and the water nipping at her heels.<p>

It was March. Reissa had a fairly warm climate, but it was still a bit cool out. Not cool enough to keep Ariel away from the beach however. She simply wrapped herself in her warmest shawl and made sure she didn't go too close to the water.

On the way home, she took the long way, the route that led all the way around the castle, past the stables and sheds and whatever else. She always wanted to put off returning to the castle for as long as possible. How was she supposed to live there the rest of her life, cooped up in that dreadful place? Sometimes she didn't think she could make it another day.

She sighed, coming to a stop in front of a small garden shed, leaning against it to rest for a moment as she stared up at the looming structure she was supposed to call home. It was a beautiful castle, but there was just something about it that never felt quite right.

A thumping sound from within the shed pulled her from her thoughts. She took a step back, startled. What was going on in there? Perhaps a raccoon had gotten inside and was wreaking havoc. She pushed open the door and peaked inside.

But the sight that greeted her inside the dark little room was not a raccoon, or any animal for that matter. It was Eric in a rather compromising position.

Now, Ariel knew that Eric was involved with other women. She neither expected nor particularly desired for him to be faithful to her. It didn't make her angry or jealous. Probably because she barely even considered him her husband. Yesterday, when she'd first held Michael, she and Eric had shared at bit of a moment. But that had been the first bit of friendly interaction they'd has in ages. She wasn't even sure why it had happened, why she had responded to him so flirtatiously. It must have been the good mood that connecting with her baby for the first time had put her in. Because she loved Flynn, not Eric. And she knew Eric didn't love her either.

And that was why the most shocking thing about what she was seeing in that little shed was the fact that her husband was having intercourse with someone that wasn't her. It was that her husband was having intercourse with a _man._

She froze for a moment, as her brain tried to fully register what she was seeing. Was this something that happened? Two men? Together? She'd never heard of such a thing.

Eric's eyes met hers, widening in surprise.

"Shit!" he exclaimed loudly, shoving the other man away from him.

"Sorry!" Ariel squeaked, backing away. "I'm sorry. I….I…Sorry!"

She turned, hurrying toward the castle. Behind her, she heard Eric shout her name. He sounded angry. She glanced over her shoulder. He was standing the doorway of the shed, still trying to get his trousers back on. She kept running.

He found her not too long after. She was in her room, sitting on the bed, waiting for him. She knew he'd come find her. It the kind of thing a husband and wife should talk about – the wife walking in on her husband and another man going at it a garden shed.

She hadn't, however, expected him to come storming in looking as angry as he did. She had thought he would be embarrassed, ashamed maybe…But not like this…

"Eric," she said, as he paused a few feet away from her bed, his eyes flashing in a way that made her shrink back slightly. "What I walked in on, it doesn't—"

She was going to say that it didn't matter. She didn't care. He could do what he wanted with whomever he wanted. It made no difference to her if he had sex with men in garden sheds.

But she didn't get a chance to say any of that – or anything for that matter – because he cut her off before she got the chance.

"You can't tell anyone what you saw!" he snarled. "Not a single fucking person, you hear me?"

She stared at him, shocked.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?" he roared.

Eric was an ass more often than not, and they'd had their fair share of arguments, but she'd never, ever been scared of him before. In that moment, however, she was downright frightened. A vein in his forehead throbbed as his face grew redder and redder. He looked like he could explode at any second.

She shrank back farther, trying to make herself as small as possible. "Yes," she murmured. "Eric, I'm not going to tell anyone, I swear. I don't—"

He grabbed her arm, yanking her up from the bed. She let out a yelp of pain; he'd nearly pulled her arm out of its socket.

"If this gets out," he growled, his face mere inches from hers, "I'm ruined. I _won't_ let that happen."

"Let go of me!" she cried, trying to pull herself from the tight grip he had on her arm. "You're going to leave a bruise."

He squeezed harder. "Good," he hissed. "Maybe the bruise will be a reminder to keep your mouth shut!"

"I don't need a reminder!" she snapped. "I won't tell anyone!"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she lifted her leg and kneed him in the groin. He let out a howl of pain and dropped her arm.

For a moment he was incapacitated, bending over and wincing in pain. But then he straightened up and the look in his eyes told her she'd made a big mistake. He looked even angrier than before, something she hadn't thought was possible. She turned to run from the room, but he was faster. He grabbed her arm again, this time slamming her up against the nearest wall. She winced, as pain shot through her body.

"You're going to tell Andy, aren't you?" he hissed. "You tell him everything."

"I'm not!"

He slapped her across the face.

"Don't lie to me!"

She lifted her hand and touched her cheek, staring at him in shock. "I'm not lying! I swear, Eric. I'm not going to tell a soul."

"Not even that boy who lives in that shack on the beach?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust. "That fisherman's son you've been fucking?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know about—?"

"That's not important. What's important is that I know you aren't going to go running off to your little plaything and tell him what you saw."

"I think I've made it perfectly clear that I'm not going to!"

"That's good," he growled quietly. "Because I would make you regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I'm threatening _him. _You tell anyone what happened today and I can guarantee you'll never get to play with your little toy again."

Her eyes widened. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Was he threatening to_ kill _Flynn? She opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say, something that would assure him she wouldn't tell a soul, something that would keep the boy she loved safe. But, without meaning to, she burst into tears instead—loud, ugly sobbing. She tried to pull herself together; this was only going to make Eric madder. But she couldn't. The tears kept coming. How was this happening? How could any of this be happening?

To her surprise, Eric dropped her arm and stepped away from her. His face had gone from angry to unreadable. She didn't stop to ponder this, however. She just got the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>Eric watched as Ariel ran out of the room in tears. He contemplated calling after her, but then realized it would be pointless. There wasn't a chance in hell she would turn around and come back into that room. And he didn't particularly blame her.<p>

He sighed, throwing himself down on her bed and closing his eyes. Why had he let himself lose his temper like that?

Of course, he knew exactly why. He was scared, something he _hated_ feeling. Scared at what would happen if people found out his secret. And if he'd once pushed a man off a cliff to keep that secret safe, it wasn't that surprising that he'd reacted like he had with Ariel.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty—which he also hated. He'd threatened that boy he'd seen her with before on the beach, she'd started sobbing, and his anger at her kind of just dissipated. And had instead turned into a strange mixture of guilt and jealousy_. _Ariel had looked so heartbroken at even the thought of something happening to that fisherman's son. And right away Eric had known he could never hurt him. Because that would hurt Ariel. And he couldn't do that (not any more than he already had). He was really quite fond of her, despite that fact that she had originally been nothing more than a key to the mer-kingdom, despite the fact that she probably hated him, despite everything.

He groaned, wishing he could go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. Why had he dragged Danny into that shed in the first place? It had been a stupid idea. And reckless, _very_ reckless. It's just that Danny had shown up to give him some good news. He and Schmitt had been traveling all around the countryside, recruiting men for their mission, and it had apparently been a success. They were very close to having enough people to pull this off. Very, very close. And in the excitement of the moment, Eric had pulled Danny into the garden shed to thank him…

And then Ariel had caught them.

And suddenly, what he wanted more than anything in the world was to find her and apologize. And that was unacceptable. He stood up, feeling his anger returning. But this time, it was directed towards himself. He was acting weak, going soft. And for what? _Her?_ He didn't love her. He didn't love anyone.

He stormed out of the room, nearly colliding with his brother.

"Whoa," Andy slurred, looking Eric over with blurry eyes. "You look maaad."

"And you look drunk!" Eric snapped irritably. "It's four in the afternoon."

Andy shrugged this off. "So?"

"Are things not going well with what's-her-name?" Eric mocked, knowing full well what Clarissa's name was. "Is alcohol the only thing helping you forget that she still won't fuck you? I'm surprised you even still want her. I heard she's damaged goods—already let someone go where you so desperately want to."

"She was raped, you asshole!" Andy snarled.

"Well, that's what she wants you to think anyway," Eric taunted. "So that when she finally lets you between those pretty legs of hers, you won't wonder why the little slut's hymen is already broken."

Eric probably should have expected it, but Andy's fist smashing into his face still managed to catch him off guard.

"Shit!" he howled, clutching his nose. "Fuck, Andy, that hurt!"

"Good!" Andy snapped. "You ever say anything like that about her again, it'll hurt a lot fucking worse!"

"Are you in love with her?" Eric heard himself asking, as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve. And he even as he said the words, he couldn't for the life of him understand what had possessed him to say them.

"Yes," Andy said shortly. "Of course."

"But how do you know?" Eric asked. "What's it feel like?"

Andy shrugged. "You just know, Eric. I can't explain it." He paused, tilting his head. "Why are you asking me this? Are you in love with someone?"

"I'm married," Eric muttered irritably.

"So you're in love with her then?" Andy asked, looking genuinely curious. "Ariel?"

Eric thought about how he'd felt yesterday, seeing her with their son, how he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. He thought about how he'd felt when he'd seen her cry only minutes before. For a moment he had felt jealous that it was someone else that she loved that much, someone else who she was so frightened of losing that the thought of losing him had caused her to burst into tears.

Andy was still staring at him expectantly, his question hanging in the air between him.

"I have things to do!" Eric snapped, not wanting to think about the answer for a second longer. He pushed past Andy and hurried down the corridor.

What the hell had gotten into him?

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! Things have been super busy for me recently. Right now I'm working full time 6 days a week at my school's newspaper and taking a summer class, so I don't have a lot of time to devote to writing, sadly.<strong>

**Please review!**


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